For better, for worse
by DeadlyFandoms
Summary: "At some point they had grown apart – in a time when unity was vital – and now she could see no more of the man she fell in love with. Now she shared a bed with a stranger..." / A year after fleeing from Austria, the von Trapps find themselves in England; but not all roads can be bathed in sunshine and soon, tensions rise, changes occur and hearts are broken...can it all be mended?
1. An Introduction

**For better, for worse  
****An introduction**

Perhaps for the first time in her life, Maria von Trapp found herself wondering just when things had all gone wrong…completely wrong. She had suffered through endless hardships and wicked terrors as a child, and yet, during those more tender years, she had always held tightly to an innate sense of optimism; openly setting her heart on the belief that there was a plan for her, and that one day she would find herself at a place of peace within the world.  
After the faithful summer of 1938, she found that her hopefulness had finally been gratified when she took the name of Captain von Trapp, the day she became a wife, mother and baroness was the very same day that she was sure she'd found her place of loving amity. And whilst she wasn't one to really indulge in such fancies – preferring to focus on the needs of her family or whatever task was next to come – she _did _allow herself to bask, just for a little while, in all that she had been blessed with. Then, like the breath of the wind, the Anschluss came swooping in, and Maria found herself on trial yet again.

But she was not alone this time; she had her family, and she knew that the strength and intricacies of their bond would carry them through all manner of hardships; and for a while, they did. It had been more daunting, more terrifying than anything else they'd ever known; but the resilience that grew from their camaraderie carried them through grueling days of being on the run and endless nights of rest in places that offered little safety nor refuge. And whilst it was most certainly the combined spirit of all nine von Trapps that allowed them to climb and claw their way across the border – and into the awaiting arms of their new life – Maria knew that the unwavering strength and admirable bravery of her husband had truly been at the heart of the operation. Had it not been for his steely determination to protect his family at all costs, she was unsure if they'd be as safe as they were now.

And yet, in spite of all of this, she found her heart grew heavy – and he her chest tight – at the thought of her husband. It shouldn't have been this way, and yet it was. They had barely spoken to each other in the past couple of weeks, in fact, she wasn't even sure what the last thing she said to him was; and whenever they looked at each other, it would only be a second later that one of them would turn away with a scoff or flare of the nostrils. It was horrific. At some point they had grown apart from each other – in a time when unity was vital – and now, she could see no more of the man she fell in love with. Now she shared a bed with a stranger. And it broke her heart.

When they had wed, she had been so certain that their love could withstand anything, and over the course of their honeymoon, Georg had showed her – in so very many ways – just how much he loved her, had made her feel like she was the only woman in the world and that he would follow her to the ends of the Earth…now he seemed to be walking away. He was cold now, a shadowy man who seemed so distant from the elements of the world, from his family and his wife. No one could even claim that he had become the man he was when his first wife had died, for now, Maria was sure that he had become worse than that; beastly, withdrawn and heart-wrenchingly stoic. At least his previously dark behaviour had been a reaction to grief, this, well, she didn't know where this had come from, but if the was a reason, he had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't going to tell her. But he had assured her through gritted teeth that nothing was amiss – a blatant lie that had come to life when she noticed that he could neither look at nor touch her without something dark clouding over his eyes. Something she didn't recognise, but instinctively knew that it could break them if it so pleased.

No longer did they speak softly in the evenings, reminisce over fond memories or hum that they loved each other through panted breaths and stolen kisses; now, if they spoke at all, it was through sharp comments, aggravated offences or blackened arguments. No longer did they catch each other's eye and become oblivious to the rest of the world around them; now, they did all that they could to pretend the other didn't exist. Now, they were no longer Maria and Georg von Trapp, two people madly in love and surviving every hurdle thrown their way; now, they seemed to be little more than two people who wore their wedding rings for propriety and for the sake of their children.

So, as she cried soft and private tears, Maria finally allowed herself to analyse all that had happened since the Anschluss, every detail, spoken world and executed plan, everything that led them to where they were now; and after what seemed like hours of hopeless investigation, she finally stumbled across a correlation that lay deep within her memories, something that could be the very root of their crumbling marriage: their arrival in England.

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**Author's notes: Hello, everyone! So I'm back with my newest multi-chapter story. I'm afraid that the next chapter will contain a fair bit of set-up (which I couldn't really avoid, I'm afraid) but after that, it'll get going. My plan for this one is a lot more vague than, for example, Better than a dream, but I do know the main premise. That being said, I am open to suggestions!**

**I've taken a lot of inspirations like this, mostly a desire to be more like some of my favourite TSOM fanfiction writers (Warmwoollenmittens, augiesannie, INeverExplainAnything, bloomandgrow, thoroughlymodernjulie IDontKnowYourSignal and Bellarsam Chrisjulitte - just to name a few), and a desire to write something I can really be proud of, something with a really compelling story, you know? I think that achieving this will be difficult for me, since I always end up hating everything I write, but I truly hope that this story can, at the very least, be a stepping stone.  
But, more importantly, I really hope that you all enjoy it!**

**Oh! And Downton Abbey has and will be a big inspiration for this too!**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this 'introduction' chapter. The next one will divulge some of the story, but since it still contains a lot of set up, I have so far listed it as a prologue; moreover, it is already written, so I'll post it soon.**

**Thank you all!**


	2. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you all so much for the love you gave me for the first chapter, it means more to me than I can ever tell you!**

**So, here is the next chapter, which is what I'm calling the story's prologue. I'll admit that it's not fantastic, but after this, the story truly gets going. But, the set-up in this story was necessary, and, unfortunately, I couldn't find any other way of introducing it. Still, I think it's enjoyable, and I hope you think so too.**

* * *

"_Please, I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice"_

"_I will help you; but you must realise that this is a difficult thing for us to do…even this telephone call could be detrimental to us"_

"_I understand. But, as I've already stated, you're our last hope"_

"_Very well, I shall help you. But you might do something for me in return…"_

"_Anything."_

* * *

**For better, for worse  
****Prologue**

They'd had no choice. That was what Maria and her husband had agreed. That, in spite of the refuge that Switzerland had offered them since their escape from Austria, they'd had no choice but to flee yet again. The boarders were far too close, their lifestyle too submerged in poverty, and they always felt that even with the country's neutrality, they were always teetering on the edge of exposure. No, they had always known that they would have to leave one day, that Switzerland never would have been more than a short term solution; but even with the knowledge that they must take flight from yet another country, their next destination was something that remained far in the unknown. They had been in a state of desperation as they attempted to plan their next venture, and quickly stumbled upon the realisation that almost anywhere in mainland Europe would either be too dangerous, or much too inaccessible with their passports; besides, who knew who would be looking for them and where.

"I think I may have an idea" Georg had murmured one evening – when he and Maria were finally alone in their suffocating kitchen and shielded by the low glow of a singular candle.

"What is it?" Maria had prompted.

But she knew him too well, and his tone instantly told her that the idea had been fabricated out of sheer desperation. She knew that he was only telling it to her out of chivalry, that he wished to do anything but actually follow through with his plan. Nonetheless, he would tell her, and she would listen.

"England" he said plainly, the candlelight flickering in swirls across his irises.

"England?"

He merely nodded stiffly in response; his eyes swamped with melancholy.

"Because of the children?"

"Yes, Georg confirmed"

"It doesn't seem overly appealing to you" she said leadingly.

"I'm aware of the merit it holds, but I lost contact with Agathe's parents after she died. They tried numerous times to reach out – mostly so they could see the children, I think – but I never responded. After a while, I think they gave up on me, and I haven't had any contact with them for a long, _long_ time" he admitted.

"Do…do they know about me?"

"Yes, they heard about our marriage through the grapevine and sent a polite enough letter of congratulations shortly before the wedding. I never responded."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't say. Perhaps because, even though I fathered their grandchildren, I felt as though it was never my place to speak with them. I always found it difficult to treat them as family…there have always been tensions between us, you see, especially after Agathe remained with me in Austria and after we kept our children there. I think all of that just grew after she died, and I stopped responding to letters. It's my own fault I suppose, but, without Agathe, I felt as though the Whiteheads were never really a part of me, if that makes sense?"

"I think so. I think I can understand"

"In hindsight, I shouldn't have acted the way I did" he paused briefly, a heavy pause that burned with rumination, "I think as well, that I didn't know – once again – if it was my place to contact them after we got engaged. After the way I had behaved, and after all of the mounted tensions, I'm sure they wouldn't have appreciated it if I had come back out of the void to tell them I was marrying again."

"I see…" she said lowly.

"You were not a replacement, Maria, you never will be, but I don't know if the Whiteheads would have been so forgiving. They're not malicious people, but I think it may have been painful for them to hear – at least on some level. From where they stand, they cannot see all of the good that you did – all the good that you still do – they wouldn't have had the full picture, and I was afraid that it would have led them to some untruthful conclusions"

"I understand, Georg, I really do. And I appreciate you telling me all of this…just as much as I appreciate your trying to keep my name untarnished back then"

"It was the very least I could do…our courtship and marriage threw you into many a firing line"

"Let them fire at me" she grinned, "none of it matters when I have you and the children" she added softly before taking on of his hands in hers. "I think you should contact the Whiteheads, Georg"

"You do?"

"Yes. I think that there is too much danger spreading through mainland Europe – and it's only going to get worse – I think, should it spread all the way, England can be a safe place for us, at least for a while. And, heaven forbid, if England should be affected too, then at least we'll be with people that will look out for us…and the children will be with their grandparents"

Instantly, he was touched by how – just as it always had been – her concern was always first and foremost with the children, and he was sure that there was no woman out there better suited to the role of a mother than she. It warmed his heart, truly and deeply, and he knew that he had been exceptionally blessed with one of God's greatest gifts; for, in spite of her perfect fit to motherhood, she was so much more than all of that, so much more free and spirited, still so enthralled by everything, and still so hopeful, even though they had spent the last few months hiding away in a shack in the Swiss pastures.

"I expect they won't even give me the time of day" Georg sighed.

"You said it yourself, they are not malicious people, and in spite of your history, they're not going to leave us stranded when they know we need help…at the very least, they'll do it for the children"

"I hope you're right"

"There's a little bit of good in everybody, Georg, don't forget that" she smiled.

"I try not to" he smiled back.

"How long has it been since the children have seen their grandparents?"

"They haven't seen them since their last visit – when Gretl was born" he said shamefully.

"All will be forgiven, Georg; and there is no shame in asking for help, not now, and not after all this time"

"Objectively I know that…but you must understand how hard this is for me"

"I do, I truly do. But I admire you so much for even considering it"

"I will be honest with you, I'm dreading the whole thing: contacting them again, begging for help – and perhaps forgiveness too – and then having to face them every day…but, I have always wanted to do what is best for you and the children, and that hasn't changed – it never will"

"How soon can you get in contact?"

"Providing they answer to me" Georg added almost bitterly.

"They will" Maria assured optimistically.

"I should be able to make a telephone call tomorrow morning"

"Telephone?" she almost shrieked, "Georg, are you sure that's wise?"

"I have a friend who can help me make a discreet call" he told her, his tone holding an enigmatic edge.

"Is it safe?"

"Perfectly. And it'll be the most effective way of contacting the Whiteheads. Not responding to a letter is far easier and more excusable than cutting a man off mid telephone call. Besides, Jonathon Whitehead – in spite of his pride – should hear me out if he can hear my voice, I just hope he decides to accept the call in the first place; but, if he does, he will let me say my piece"

"Well, if you think it's best, then I shall stand beside you in this" she assured.

"Thank you, my love" he replied softly before kissing her forehead.

"I have never been to England before" Maria mused on a whisper.

"Can you speak English?" Georg asked innocently, only to wish that he hadn't when – even with the warmth of the candle – he witnessed his wife's face turn to a cold shade of panicked paleness.

"No…I only know the bare bones" she murmured, suddenly ashamed and frightfully nervous.

She knew that both Georg and the older children could speak the language with almost imposing fluency; and that the younger ones would pick it up without much difficulty. But suddenly, she was terrified of being left stranded with a foreign country and a foreign tongue.

But, before she could let her trepidations run away with her, Georg gently squeezed her hand and caught her eye; she knew then that he would never leave her behind, that he would always be there for her and would help her in any way that he could. When they married, he promised her that no matter what happened, they would always be a team. These promises had had the potential to be tested when they fled Austria, but they had both always honoured them. They had never broken apart, and they both intended to keep it that way.

"We'll be okay, Maria. I promise you"

True to his word, Georg contacted Jonathon Whitehead the very next day. To Georg's surprise, the Englishman had answered without a fight, responding to Georg's advances with surprise rather than disgruntled insults, as had been expected. But that is not to say that it was an easy negotiation on Georg's part – in fact, it was quite the opposite. Georg had barely greeted the gentleman before the demanding questions had flown from the other end of the line, where he had been for the past few years, how Georg could possibly justify his silence when it meant that Jonathan and his wife could not see their own grandchildren, and how he must have some nerve calling them up now. Before he could answer, Georg stayed silent for just a moment and sighed gently, swallowing his pride and allowing his shame and guilt to flow out and to wear his heart on his sleeve. It was time to walk fully – and without doubts – into the shadows of his own actions in the hope that something brighter would await him and his family on the other side.

He had been nothing but truthful, had admitted fully that, in spite of how twisting, torturous and all-consuming his grief had been, his behaviour was unforgivable; that he indeed should've maintained the contact, even if it was only so the children could see their grandparents. That he should have been a better man, and that he truly wished that he could change his past and his actions; then, before anything else could be said, Georg all but begged for refuge. He told Jonathon everything, and whilst Georg expected that the man had heard of his and his family's recent actions – even in England – he wanted his potential ally to hear the truth. And that is what he gave him. He left no detail out, was honest about his reasons for escaping Austria and just how they had carried out the operation and how they had been surviving since…but he made it clear that they could go on no longer, that it was imperative for them to leave Switzerland. The von Trapps had reached yet another point where their safety was on the line, and Georg would damn himself to Hell before he let anything happen to his wife and children; he told Jonathon just that and pleaded with the man to let them take refuge at their manor in the English countryside. The Whiteheads were their last hope.

Jonathon, in spite of the fact that he was harbouring some rather dark ill-feelings, let Georg speak until they both felt everything had been said, and had listened carefully to each and every detail that the Austrian had given – assessing the truthfulness of the tale – and whilst he hadn't been fully expecting it, the Englishman had not been entirely surprised that Georg would ask for refuge; why else would he be contacting him? He considered for a long while – spurting harsh words at Georg as he did so. He made sure to tell Georg that he thought he'd behaved despicably thus far, that a bigger man wouldn't have run away into the shadows so quickly, that even though he and his wife had been devastated by the passing of their daughter, they had still attempted to keep the contact with Georg alive for the benefit of the children. When Georg had severed that tie without a single word of warning they had been deeply hurt and angered, and Georg knew that the Whiteheads had been holding on to such bitterness ever since. But, once the air had been cleared, and both men had said all that they wished to, further negotiations took place, and they eventually came to an agreement…

They had travelled for days to reach England, trains from some of Switzerland's most secreted areas and across the hopeful hills of Europe; before a final ferry from the edges of France to the white cliffs of Dover; and, eventually, the von Trapps found themselves in Blighty. They had travelled in suitable enough conditions – thanks to the organisation by the Whiteheads – but even comfortable train carriages, window-side ferry seats and a personal chauffeur were not enough to quell the twisting unease felt by Maria as they made their way towards Hertfordshire. Georg didn't feel much better. They were both consumed by a myriad of fears and uncertainties; for Georg, it was the dread of seeing his in-laws again, and having to face the harsh realities and potentially ruined relations as a result of his past behaviour. It was the uncertainty of how he would be received and the potential suffering that could be passed onto his wife because of it.

As for Maria, she was about to enter an entirely new world: the English aristocracy; and she would be lying fantastically if she claimed that she was not afraid. It was all so daunting; she had grown so accustomed to the villa that it no longer felt like the home of an aristocrat, and whilst Georg had spoilt her in Paris, or how she had been on his arm at numerous parties before their marriage, she had not tasted enough of the Austrian elite to ever be prepared for what waited for her in England. She had been a novice when she had been introduced to the upper-class, but now, she knew that as Georg's wife in an entirely new faction, much more would be expected of her; she knew that the Whiteheads would be prepared to house a classy and picture-perfect baroness…and Maria didn't think she could live up to such expectations.

And then came the language barrier. As she had already admitted, her English ability was rudimentary at best and whilst her time – she hoped – would mostly be occupied with the children, but she knew that would only be a short-lived setup. Soon they would attend schools, and as well as having to live and communicate within this country, she would have to actually speak with her hosts; and that was enough to send her into a cold sweat. Maria was rarely a scared woman, tentative perhaps, but there was just something about the foreboding she felt in regards to her new life that sent chills tumbling down her spine. She didn't think she even quite understood it herself, but all she could foresee for herself was embarrassment…it was odd, she pondered, how she had done many foolish things in her past – many of which had been performed in front of her husband when he was still her formidable employer – and yet this did nothing to calm her as she approached he newest, albeit distant, family members.

She knew objectively that everyone made mistakes, especially in the minefield world of languages, and that she should not be so sensitive to such things, but for whatever reason, she found herself becoming cripplingly shy and alarmingly fearful. But she hoped with her whole heart that could overcome her fears and take the necessary steps towards harmonious family relations.

And then, there were the opinions the Whiteheads would hold of her. Georg had been right when they had discussed things before their departure from Switzerland, to the Whiteheads, Georg had been the man who made their daughter happy, and now he was going back to them with someone new on his arm. Would they accept her? Embrace her as they had embraced Georg all those years ago? Or would they continue to hold onto any bitterness caused by the rift between the Whiteheads and the von Trapps? She supposed that she could not blame them fully, perhaps to them she would be little more than their daughter's replacement…and how could anyone ever expect them to welcome that with smiles and embraces?

"Maria are you okay?" she heard her husband whisper – wanting to both sooth her and avoid the attention of the children.

She turned to him – tearing her gaze from the window and the rolling hills of England – and when she saw the fidelity sparkling boundlessly within his eyes, she knew that no matter what she said to him, he would always be able to tell just how she really felt. That even if it were invisible to everyone else, he would be able to see the tension in her body in different ways. He would not see it through a stiffened posture or a tightening of her grip, but would instead see it in the way she would gaze at nothingness for too long, through the way she would swallow hard in moments of solace – when she thought no one was watching – or how her words would be quieter, softer as a result of an occupied mind. And it was this very intimacy – and the strength of it – that was the first thing that allowed her to truly feel a sense of comfort since they had crossed the English Channel.

"I'm nervous" she admitted quietly.

He reached across subtly and gave her hand a squeeze.

"What's worrying you?"

He knew very well what she would answer, but he wanted her to say it out loud, to process it and to hopefully let her worries seep away – or at least start to.

"I'm just very unsure of myself, and where I stand"

"Because of the Whiteheads, yes?"

"Yes. Right now, I'm feeling like a bit of a fish out of water"

"Do you want to talk about it? We still have a little bit of time before we arrive"

"I don't want to focus on it too much – I'm sure it's just preliminary nerves – but I'm just hoping I can live up to expectations"

"You've already exceeded my expectations, darling"

It was true, through their marriage she had been dragged into a whirlwind of war and an uncertainty for their future; she had had so many challenges thrown her way, not only the task of becoming a wife, mother and baroness, but she had been forced to flee her home under the cover of darkness and hop from country to country until they could finally find a place to be safe.

"I know that you hold pride for me…but it's the Whiteheads I'm concerned about"

"How come?"

"Think about how I must seem from their perspective, I'm the new wife, the one you're bringing to England instead of their daughter, the new woman who's taken on the task of raising their grandchildren…" she stated almost morbidly.

"You mustn't let any of that worry you, you have already demonstrated such bravery, and I know that you will handle this next phase of our lives just as gracefully and efficiently as you have with everything else"

"You don't deny it, though, do you?"

Georg was almost lost for words. He had not seen the Whiteheads for years, had barely spoken to them since Agathe passed away…he had no idea how they would be feeling, and if any hurt would be directed towards Maria. Wrong as it was, he could unfortunately understand why they would target her – as well as him – if they were still in pain.

"It's true that I cannot speak on how they will receive you. Truly, I do not know how Lord and Lady Whitehead are feeling in regards to me or my return. Jonathon was civil enough to me over the telephone, but I would not be surprised if he and Isobel are still hurt after everything that has happened. I'll admit that they may be a tad…_suspicious_ over you, perhaps they will be unsure of how to receive you since there have never been any formal introductions…but as I've already said, they are not wicked people, and I cannot imagine them ever making you feel uncomfortable on purpose. Tensions, if there even are any, will be gone before we've even realised them. Out of the two of us, I'll be the one in the firing line, I'm sure"

"I want to be the best that I can be, they are expecting a baroness after all. I need to at least attempt to fill the shoes of their daughter"

"I don't want you to upset yourself through comparisons"

"It's not so much that, but I am helping to raise their daughter's children, it's only reasonable that they should want to know that I am doing it effectively"

"It would also be reasonable for them to not pass judgement…and I'm sure that's what will occur"

"I can only hope, I suppose"

"I don't think I need to remind you of this, but you _are _a good mother, and a good baroness"

"I never had time to be a baroness in Austria, and from the tales you have told, English aristocracy seems so much more…_brutal_"

"It can be a minefield" Georg admitted as his forehead creased, "but I was rarely ever able to survive it myself. In the short time I spent among English high society, it was always Agathe that carried me through"

Maria didn't know if that served as a comfort or not.

"Listen," Georg began, "I know how worried you are, you have every right to be, but I _know _that you'll be the perfect baroness and mother that you desire to be. And the Whiteheads – like everyone else you've ever encountered – will grow to adore you; there's no way that they could not"

She managed to give him a weak smile.

"We'll be happy here, Maria, _I promise_"

Perhaps it would all be okay.

With their discussion having come to its natural end, Maria gave her husband one final thankful smile – her eyes convey the clear message of 'I love you' – before letting her gaze turn back to the window and settle over the luscious green hills of England. In spite of the agitation that was brewing heavily in her chest, Maria couldn't help but marvel at the patchwork hills of the new country, how shadows cast across them, leaving endless shades of green to be admired by all; like a quilt created by nature's own loving hand. Each one was its own pool of life and beauty, homes to growing crops and creatures that hopped to the rhythm of the summer breeze; they reminded her bittersweetly of Austria, and oh, how she was desperate to run through them like she did the mountains back home. To let the overgrown blades of grass tickle her fingertips as the wind tousled her hair and sunlight kissed her skin. She was able to take some joy from these views and imaginings…maybe they would be truly happy here.

And before they knew it, the chauffeur had turned the vehicle onto the Whitehead estate and began down the glorious trail that led to the manor itself.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES: So, there you go, that's all of the set-up done and now we can truly begin. I have already started the next chapter (the first true chapter) so I'll hopefully be able to post that next week.**

**Again, thanks for all the love and feedback, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!**


	3. Chapter One

**Author's notes: My most sincere apologies for the delay, I have been so busy this week and have had no time to write. However, I hope this chapter makes up for the wait at least somewhat.**

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**For better, for worse  
****Chapter One**

"_I think I've made my terms clear enough"_

"_I see"_

"_Do I sense hesitation?"_

"_I'm afraid so; what you're asking is…difficult"_

"_So is what you're asking"_

"_Touché" _

"_So, what's your answer?"_

* * *

The Whitehead manor was far grander than anything Maria could have possibly imagined, and as she craned her next against the window to let her eyes fall on its imposing walls – each one gracefully aged and weathered by history – she could not help but feel woefully intimidated. Even the villa back in Aigen, way back on her very first day as governess, did not shock her as much as this home of two of England's most elite. The villa had not towered over her as the manor did – making her feel like a mere insect in its presence, nor did it seem so anciently magical that she had to blink several times to make sure it was even real. Maria felt as though she stepped right into the pages of a history book.

The manor itself lay at the centre of the estate, amidst acres of luscious green land – gently nestled within an entourage of trees, glistening marble fountains and immaculately trimmed hedges. It was magnificent, and Maria's eyes blew wide at the very sight of it, and even though a sparked sense of panic began to sink deep into her bones, she couldn't help but be completely blown away by that very majesty. Her very first thought had been that a manor was too modest of a name, and that the place she was about to call home was little short of a palace.

In a desperate act of distraction, she began to force her attention onto the finer details of the estate, how it was constructed in a way that seemed to pull you in, with the eastern and western wings of the home being far more outstretched than the centre, or the way it was built in elegant two-tone shades. The way the stone crumbled with sophistication in the slightly more hidden corners, marking that this home had lived through far more than she could ever hope to imagine. She noticed how each protruding, white window was in perfect formation with its neighbour, and how the panes of glass shone with pride – even underneath the weakened English sun; and yet, even with a lack of sparkling glory coming from the sky, she couldn't help but marvel at how the manor still stood out miraculously from its surroundings. She had no doubt that even in the darkest of days, or underneath the stormiest of skies, that the home would be little short of mesmerising.

She let her eyes float across more of the details, like the shrubbery that grew up and along the walls of the manor in a desperate attempt to be a part of its beauty, the pillars and railings that kept up the immaculate precision of its design, and the aged clock tower that showed that the afternoon would soon be seeping away from them. This truly was a piece of both art and history, she thought to herself, as the fountains continued to spurt out a steady stream, and now, she was expected to be a part of it.

"What do you think?" Georg asked on a whisper. He had been watching her and had been fiercely intrigued by the emotions that had glazed over her eyes – that perfect mixture of childlike wonder and adult trepidation.

"It's magnificent" his wife breathed.

"You know, this is only the front of the house, there's acres of land behind it – all of which belongs to the Whiteheads – they even used to keep horses; though, I doubt they still do"

She was almost too afraid to even try and imagine just how much land would make up the infamous estate.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. There's a long stretch behind the house that was perfect for galloping up and down, though, the groundskeepers were never too thankful" Georg smirked – desperately trying to soothe Maria's nerves.

He was only partly successful. He was about to speak again but gave up on the notion when he watched his wife slowly become distracted again, this time by something much more intimate. She became fixed on the long row of white aproned-women, and the dark suits of valets and footmen that stood beside them – each one stood straight and in regimented perfection. It was truly daunting. The staff at the villa had been a much smaller crew, more personal, and Maria had been a part of them much longer than she had been a baroness in that house; would this army of servants serve her too? Being on the other side of the fence was something she simply wasn't accustomed to. She had been far too busy during her engagement to really need the aid, and she had never lived in Austria as a baroness…could she really continue the role she never got to play in England?

She looked over at the children – hoping to discover that she wasn't the only one experiencing such unease – but, of course, she was a fool to expect such a thing, for she found the children wonderfully enthralled; the older ones by the thrill of returning to the home of their grandparents, somewhere she was sure they hadn't been for many years. And the younger ones were simply hypnotised by how magical the estate seemed to be. No, it seemed she was all alone in this one. Try as she might to convince herself that she and Georg were in the same boat now, she knew that wasn't quite true, for Georg had been here before, probably even lived here before, and above all else, had had time within the aristocracy and decades in the navy to build his reputation up. She hadn't. Would England accept her title if they knew where she came from?

It was then that the car finally came to a halt, and Maria felt her stomach drop as the engine died. This was it, the next chapter of their lives, and she hoped with her whole heart that there was some happiness waiting for them; surely their family had suffered enough?

"Everything will be fine" Georg assured once more before turning to the children, "Best behaviour, children, I know you're excited, but I want you to remember your manners"

"Yes, father" a few of them chorused, but they were far too distracted by everything evolving around them to truly focus on the words spoken by their father or themselves.

One by one they each clambered out of the vehicle, suddenly exposing themselves to the towering heights of Whitehead manor…it seemed so much more imposing when one was toe-to-toe with it. But Maria didn't look up for long, and again found herself observing the excessive array of servants that lined the driveway. She could spot no emotions of their faces, but she could not help but feel scrutinised underneath their gaze – almost as if they could see right through her, secretly knowing that beneath her title she was no better than them – it made her cringe and want to duck away. If only the earth could swallow her whole, she thought. And she was so observed in these raw musings that she did not notice Lord and Lady Whitehead approaching them, guided by a stiff-looking, silver-haired man in an impeccable suit.

"Your lord and ladyship, the von Trapp family" he introduced – merely as a formality.

"Jonathon , Isobel, it's good to see you again" Georg greeted earnestly.

"You too, Georg" the older woman replied – her voice controlled, but not completely lacking emotion, for even Georg could detect the slight streak of tenderness within it.

"Welcome back" Jonathon then said, and, after a heavy period of hesitation, he offered the captain a stiff handshake – which he accepted, eager to please.

"Oh, just look at them all! My, how they've groan!" Isobel gushed as her gaze shot to the children – completely overlooking Maria as she shuffled awkwardly next to her husband, "now, surely this little one isn't Gretl!" she gasped jokingly as she bent down to the child's level.

Instantly, Gretl looked to her parents for guidance, but Maria – not fully understanding the situation – remained silent.

"Say hello, Gretl" Georg encourage.

"Hallo"

"Hello" her grandmother replied, "do you know, you were just a little baby when I last saw you"

"I was?" she asked, understanding the English surprisingly well.

"Yes, but it appears that you've grown quite a lot since then, haven't you? How old are you now?"

"Six!" she announced proudly.

"My! And what a marvellous young woman you've become!"

These words caused Gretl to straighten up and smile brightly.

"And, Marta that must make you seven?" Jonathon inquired.

The girl nodded enthusiastically before announcing,

"But I'm nearly eight!"

"You were quite young too, when we last saw you all. You had just got the hang of speaking and you were chattering away until you tired yourself out"

The girl giggled loudly, and a slight blush rose in her cheeks. It was a strange experience for the youngest two, for they had never truly known their grandparents, but, language barrier aside, Maria could tell that the Whiteheads had approached the girls with such warmth and love, that it filled her heart with incredible tenderness. It was so good to see them back together, and she hoped that their relationship would continue to grow during their time in England.

"Well, it's absolutely wonderful to see you all again –" Isobel said to the rest of the children, "- it really has been far too long" her words had turned sour by the end, and it did not go unnoticed by Georg that his mother-in-law shot him an accusatory side glance…these first few days were not going to be easy, he knew.

He shuffled from one foot to the other as he ignored the steadily mounting tension between him and his in-laws, and before he could lapse into an embarrassing flurry of apologies, he addressed them both,

"Umm, I'd like to introduce you both to my wife, Jonathon, Isobel, this is Maria –" then, he code switched to German, "Maria, this is Jonathon and Isobel Whitehead"

"Hello…it's a pleasure to meet you" she said awkwardly, her words choppy and strongly accented, but the Whiteheads forced a smile, nonetheless.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Maria –" said Jonathon, "- and welcome to England"

"Thank you" she replied with a thankful bow of her head.

"Yes, it's lovely to finally meet you, I think we've got quite a bit of catching up to do – we really haven't heard a single thing about you"

Isobel spoke with presented innocence, but she again cast Georg a sharp look, and he could see straight through her formalities and politeness, it seemed as though their suspicions of bitterness had not been completely unwarranted…he just hoped that Maria wouldn't find herself in yet another firing line. She didn't deserve to go through that again. Thankfully, she seemed to only have problems with him and his actions, if she was bitter about the fact that he had not spoken to them about his new bride, then so be it. It would wear off eventually.

"What did she say?" Maria asked him – her eyes glazed over with embarrassment.

Again, he translated for her,

"She said that it's nice to meet you and that she hopes to learn more about you"

"Oh, I see…can you tell her that I'd be happy to tell her about myself – if I can"

"Of course" he smiled warmly, "Maria says that she would be happy to sit down and talk with you one day, though she fears that the language barrier may be an issue"

"Ah, I see…I was not aware that she did not speak English" Isobel hummed.

"She didn't grow up in a place where it was necessary" Georg told her wearily.

"Well, I suppose we can't all be expected to reside in places of culture"

Georg looked at her sharply – his jaw almost dropping with shock – but before he could bite back with his own retort, Jonathon defused the tension,

"Well, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get to know each other, but I suggest we all go inside. I'm sure you've all had a long journey and are keen to rest before we sit down for supper…I'm sure we'll have much to discuss, especially you and I, Georg"

From the tone of his voice, Maria could only guess that her husband was in for yet another scolding regarding his neglectful behaviour over the past few years. It made her heart sink, surely he had been punished enough, and surely, as Agathe's parents, they could empathise with the grief he experienced. It made her feel uneasy, had they entered the lion's den? She reached across, took one of his hands in her own and gave it a comforting squeeze; she would do whatever she could to help him through this, much as he would do for her.

"Yes" Georg sighed, "I'm sure we will. And I think it would be good for the children to rest, thank you"

He squeezed his wife's hand in return.

"There no need to thank me. Come along then" Jonathon turned to the silver-haired man, "Hudson, would you please tell the footmen to take their luggage in"

"Of course, your lordship" the man replied dutifully, and the family proceeded towards the manor.

"Oh, speaking of footmen, I shall assign to you both our finest valet and lady's maid to assist you during your stay – well, other than our own of course"

"Lady's maid?" Maria asked Georg – the word feeling foreign on her tongue. She thought back to the numerous staff back in Austria, none of which she believed could be assigned to the English title of 'lady's maid'.

"I – uh – don't think we'll be requiring a valet or lady's maid" Georg informed stiffly – knowing exactly what sort of response he'd get.

"Excuse me?" scoffed Jonathon.

"Maria and I never had them back in Austria…and neither did Agathe"

Georg watched as his father-in-law's forehead creased with confusion and slight offense, clearly Jonathon was not impressed with the fact that his daughter had lived without the English aristocratic tradition, or that his refugee son-in-law was now attempting to continue with such a lifestyle in his own home.

"What do you mean you never had a valet or lady's maid?" inquired Isobel – who seemed just as appalled by the whole concept.

"Just that" Georg told them simply, "we never felt any need for them"

"They're a vital part of our kind of lifestyle"

"Well, I'm afraid they're less sought-after in Austria"

"Seems very foolish, if you ask me" grumbled Jonathon in a manner that was most unbecoming for a man of his social class.

"Well it seems pointless to me" Georg said honestly, but one could not help but notice the edge to his tone, "I am capable of dressing and undressing myself – and so is my wife – I never truly saw the point in hiring staff that I do not wish to use the services of"

"Well, you're in England now, Georg" Jonathon said pointedly, "and we do things a certain way here at the manor, so you needn't worry about your modern Austrian attitudes"

"With all due respect, Jonathon, I think we'd both feel more comfortable if we were left to take care of our own dressing"

"Nonsense" replied the Englishman with a wave of his hand, "A few days with the help of a valet and you'll be wondering how you ever lived without one…besides, I believe one of our lady's maids speaks a bit of German – something to do with a German relative – so I'm sure Maria would find that most appealing"

Georg sighed silently; he knew he'd never be able to pull the Whitehead's out of the clouds when it came to the traditions of English aristocracy.

"Very well" he said in defeat.

"What was all of that about?" Maria asked her husband on a whisper.

"We're being assigned a valet and lady's maid" he replied, his voice low so he wouldn't receive another lecture from his in-laws.

But even hearing the words in their native German, Maria wasn't quite sure what the roles entailed. She supposed that she could guess what a lady's maid was…but valet she wasn't familiar with. She seemed to remember a countess – who's name and face she'd forgotten – mentioning the word at one of the numerous balls she and Georg had attended during their engagement, but, for the life of her, she could not recall the specifics of the discussion.

"Remind me, please" she said – attempting to mask the slight tingle of embarrassment.

"Essentially, they will aid us in organising our clothes and dressing us whilst we're here. They'll also attend to the mending and cleaning of our clothing and any other personal requirements"

"But we're perfectly capable of doing that ourselves" she protested.

"I know, sweetheart" Georg sighed, "but that's the way things are done here…and I couldn't reason with Jonathon"

"It just makes me feel a bit uncomfortable…I don't think I want someone dressing me like I'm a child"

"Neither do I" he scowled, "But I'm afraid we're just going to have to put up with it"

Maria was silent for just a moment, but before she could let the situation unnerve her, she remembered how blessed they were to have been given a home by the Whitehead's, for they had been held up in a shack in Switzerland not that long ago…she didn't dare to think of where they could have been if it wasn't for the generosity of Jonathon and Isobel. So, she steeled herself with a sigh and like ink in water, she let the optimism bloom within her chest and fill her up until she could smile again.

"Well, there are worse things in the world, I suppose. At least we're safe now, and we have a home"

Georg looked at her with great admiration and couldn't help but smile too, she really did have the most wonderful spirit. A contagious spirit that always seemed to carry him along with her – even in his darkest moments.

"Right you are, love" he replied, before squeezing her hand – which had remained entwined with his the entire time.

Eventually, the family came to the main entrance of the manor, and as the door was held open for them, Georg turned around to his trailing children and gave them a preliminary instruction to be on their best behaviour before finally stepping back into the place he never thought he'd see again. The place he now had to call home. Maria was barely a step inside the manor before a gasp left her lips – it was absolutely breath-taking. The main hall seemed to glimmer with immaculate class and grandiosity, the floors shone, sunlight spilled in from the windows and she couldn't help but liken it to the castles she had seen in Marta and Gretl's fairytales. She let her eyes scan over the intricate marble carvings that danced across the balustrades, and the ancient paintings that graced each and every towering wall, She felt so very privileged – grateful beyond words – to be able to bask in the beauty of the place; but how on earth was she supposed to live up to the hypnotic grandeur of all that she saw around her?

She could only imagine what the manor must be like first thing in the morning, when the maids were bustling about and dashing from one room to the other, lighting fires and opening curtains; she was certain that it must be a magical sight to watch as the staff help to breathe life into the place, to watch it dazzling and whirl back up into the land of the living – and all before the residents wake.

She hoped truly that she would one day become comfortable enough to truly call the manor home, for she still felt painfully out of place – like a peasant sneaking into a palace – then again, the manor was so sinfully stunning, that she hoped it was impossible not to flourish within it. She truly hoped. If only she could ignore the fear and unease that clung to her spine. She cast a quick look over to her husband and could see the tension in his shoulders, and she hated it, she was so grateful so be here, but she could not stand how it affected him. He seemed so uncomfortable, so uneased and incapable of finding peace. But she would do all that she could to pull him through it; it was the least she could do.

"I'm afraid we don't have a nanny in our service at the moment, but we can easily hire one, there are many people in the nearby towns and villages who our desperate to work for us, you know" Jonathon said with pride.

However, in spite of her not fully understanding the statement, Maria _had _understood 'nanny' and she felt her limbs go cold and her skin prickle at the mention of it.

"I – I look after the children" she said to him, stumbling over the uncertainty of her authority, rather than the translation of her thoughts.

"I'm sure you used to, dear, but you're not a governess anymore, you know" Isobel said with a slightly patronising air, but Maria ignored it – and the hidden insult to her intelligence – and instead tried to make sense of the foreign words.

She also hadn't known that Georg had told them that she used to be a governess.

"I want to…I care for…_oh!_" she huffed before finally turning to her husband and letting her opinions flow out in their native German, "I want to look after our children. I know it is hypocritical of me to be opposed to a stranger doing it, but I am. I don't wish to sit around all day and have no part in their growth – what on earth would I do all day?"

He understood her completely. After all, she never had to run the household back in Aigen, and she certainly wouldn't have do to it here; and even if Isobel insisted that hiring a nanny really was the proper way to do things, he would fight to get his own way on this matter. He'd do it for Maria.

"No nanny, please. Maria wishes to take care of our children herself, and I'm sure the children feel the same way"

"We want mother to look after us!" Kurt interjected passionately, earning nods and mumbles of agreement from his siblings.

Isobel was momentarily stunned, her grandson had just called another woman his mother…

"I don't know, Georg…"

"Isobel, this is the one thing I really do not wish to negotiate. Please just let Maria care for them, she can always ask one of the maids for help if necessary"

"A _maid_?!" Isobel gasped.

"It really isn't all that ghastly" Georg replied – thoroughly unamused by his mother-in-law's reaction.

She just looked at him.

"_Please, _Isobel" he said with kind sincerity – he did not wish to turn their relations sour. Truly he didn't.

"Very well, Georg. But it really is a most improper way to do things"

"Thank you" was all he said in response – swallowing the sharp retort that had almost come out instead. "No nanny" he told Maria – earning a grateful smile form her.

"Thank you, Isobel" she said.

"It's quite alright, dear" she replied with a smile that Maria swore had emotion at its core.

Maria only wished that she could justify her feelings clearly to the woman – in spite of the fact that she trusted Georg to translate for her. There were a million different thoughts and statements running through Maria's mind – even after the trauma of their escape from Austria, she hadn't changed too much, and was rarely stuck for something to say…but everything in her mind was in the formation of her Germanic tongue. It was frustrating to no end, she wanted to at least be able to thank the Whiteheads properly, but she could barely do that.  
Already, she felt as though she was being dragged into some kind of void, stuck between the real world and nothingness; as though she was watching life go by and play out as normal, and she was merely an invisible apparition, unable to truly be a part of all that she was witnessing. But she was determined to not let it get her down, instead she was going to take every individual shred of negativity in her mind and force it to become motivation; if English was her pathway back to reality, then she was determined to take it.

"Oh, Hudson -" Lord Whitehead began again to the butler – who had been loyally tailing them since they'd entered the manor, "—can you please fetch Alice and Daniel for me, I'm going to assign them as valet and lady's maid to baron and baroness von Trapp"

"Right away, sir" Hudson nodded before striding down the corridor towards what Maria could tell was a servant's entrance. Maria had seen a few aristocratic homes in Austria in which the kitchen and general space of work for the servants was downstairs, she could only assume that the Whitehead manor was the same.

Two dark-haired footmen passed them – silently hauling a couple of suitcases as they did.

"It shan't take long for them to take up your belongings – you didn't bring much, after all" Jonathon almost chuckled.

"We didn't have much to bring" Liesl told her grandfather sheepishly.

"Oh?"

The girl stayed quiet.

"We had no belongings when we left Austria, and we didn't accumulate much in Switzerland…only a couple of extra pieces of clothing, hence why we only have two or three cases…obviously it would have been less had there been fewer of us"

"Oh, I see…sorry, Georg, I didn't think before I spoke"

"There's nothing to apologise for, they were only material possessions" Georg said with kind indifference.

Jonathon managed to give him a smile – a smirk, really.

"The main thing is that you're all safe"

"Indeed"

"And I'm glad you're here, Georg – I really am. _All _of you, that is"

"We really do appreciate the hospitality"

Jonathon moved away then – having caught the sight of the butler and two younger servants heading their way.

"It's rather nice to be back" came the voice of Fredrich – who had been rather quiet up until now.

"It's wonderful to see you again, dear, it really is" Isobel gushed, "and you have grown into a fine young man"

Fredrich blushed slightly, but soon straightened his posture until he was a remarkable mirror of his father.

"Well, it _is_ strange to be back after so long…but it also feels like we never left"

"I know exactly what you mean" Liesl agreed – Louisa nodded too.

"Well, you'll always be welcome here" their grandmother told them fondly.

"It doesn't seem to have changed much – at least from what I can remember" Louisa commented.

"It hasn't really, dear, just a few new paintings on the wall and some staff replacements – we've no real need to change much, and we're as modern as we care to be"

"Do you still keep horses?" she asked excitedly.

"We do actually, only two of them, though. And they're not for us, Edward is the only one who rides them – apart from the grooms, of course"

"I'm ashamed to say I had forgotten about Edward – we never saw each other much when I was here – he still lives here then?" Georg inquired.

"Of course, he is the heir after all – and he's around a lot more than when you were last here" Isobel explained.

"Who is Edward?" Maria asked out loud – feeling confident enough to join in the conversation fully.

"Edward is my son, and Agathe's younger brother" Isobel told her.

"Oh, I didn't know…"

"Sorry, it's my fault" Georg told her, before turning to Isobel, "I never left him out on purpose, I suppose it just slipped my mind. We haven't kept in contact – so I didn't think to mention it before we married"

"You needn't fret, Georg. I'm sure you had more important things on your mind when you travelled here"

"Yes, indeed" he answered – almost chuckling at the absurdity of their lives since leaving Austria.

It was then that Jonathon re-joined the group, not only tailed by the butler, but by the two servants that had been brought up a few moments ago; one a woman – who appeared to be not much older than Maria, the other a man who couldn't have been above thirty-five, but his face was lined with deeply-rooted wrinkles – aging him beyond his years.

"Georg, Maria, this is Daniel Bennett and Alice Reynolds, they will be your valet and lady's maid whilst you are with us"

"Thank you" Georg said stiffly before addressing the servants, "nice to meet you both" he said – in a tone that the English would probably deem too friendly to be used with the staff.

"Alice has been instructed to use German with Maria" Jonathon informed.

"We appreciate that, Alice"

"I'm happy to be of service Sir, and I shall do my best, but I'm afraid my proficiency isn't the best"

"Don't worry yourself, it will still be a great help"

"I'm glad to hear that, sir"

"She is going to speak German with you when she can" Georg told his wife, and he watched with loving relief as her eye glazed over with gratitude.

"Thank you, Alice" she said – in English.

"It's quite alright, Milady" she said with a warm smile – the light of the sun that broke through the door bouncing off her auburn hair all the while.

"Daniel will be using English, of course" Jonathon continued.

"Of course. Thank you for your service, Daniel"

"My pleasure, Sir. And I'm sorry that I cannot aid the Baroness like Alice can" he said, casting a lengthy gaze over to Maria.

She caught said gaze, and for a brief moment felt the urge to squirm; there was something about his hardened face and slicked blonde hair that gave him an odd sort of air…one that Maria could not place. However, she knew she was overreacting – simply on high alert due to the overwhelming nature of her new surroundings. Eventually, the valet let his stoic feature turn up into a smile, before turning back to Georg – to whom he did not smile to.

"You needn't worry" Georg assured the man.

"Very well" Jonathon announced – his authority steaming out from his vocals, "this seems to all be settled, Alice, Daniel, please show the Baron and Baroness to their quarters, as for the children…" he trailed off slightly in thought.

"Liesl is more than capable" Georg said – hoping to please his eldest with the responsibility, but he was a little surprised to find no reaction from her at all; instead she just looked at her feet.

"Very well, Hudson, please help Liesl with the arrangements for the children, oh! and please make arrangements for some appropriate clothing to be delivered for everyone – at least until they're in a stable enough position to purchase their own"

"Very good, Sir" the butler replied, "this way children" he announced.

They all followed him politely – too tired and fascinated by the manor to misbehaved, and the two youngest clung to Liesl in the absence of their parents.

"Thank you, Jonathon" Georg said with a polite smile before turning back to Maria.

"Will they be alright?" she asked him.

"They'll be fine, we'll all be shown to our quarters and then we can help them settle in"

"Okay" she smiled, and much like their children, they followed the servants through the intricate corridors of the manor.

* * *

The von Trapps were given a good few hours to rest up and adjust before they were ushered down for supper; both Maria and Georg had spent a polite enough period of time with their valet and maid before excusing themselves to see to the children. Maria felt somewhat guilty about the whole thing, after all, Alice was doing her best to make her feel comfortable, but the very thought of even having a lady's maid and her beck and call made her feel suffocated. Baroness or not, she still felt as though she didn't truly fit into the roles of high society – regardless of how much or little time she had spent there back in Austria.

And then there was dinner. Maria had done her best not to dwell on the dauting prospect before it occurred – hoping to minimalise her anxiety – but, at the dinner table, there was nowhere for her to hide. She hoped she could at least distract herself with the needs of the youngest two, but she knew that the Whiteheads probably wouldn't approve. Still, she entered the diningroom with her husband and children with an air of confidence and was determined to not let it falter. If it was true on the outside, then she believed it could become true on the inside too.

"Will Edward not be joining us tonight?" Georg had asked.

"Not tonight" Isobel informed, "he's currently away in London, but he should be back by tomorrow"

"What is he doing in London?"

Lady Whitehead remained silent for a miniscule moment,

"I'm not quite sure, all of his business goes over my head these days" she chuckled.

Georg simply nodded.

There was a brief lull in conversation, and in the unease of the silence, Isobel decided to address Maria.

"So, whereabouts in Austria are you from, Maria?"

Maria didn't answer for a few moments as she let the foreign words swim around her mind, and her forehead puckered as she slowly processed each one, drawing a meaning from the strung together words until she felt confident enough to answer.

"The mountains – near Salzburg. My parents lived there. And then I lived with my uncle. He had a farm" she said nervously – bearing yet another huge part of her past to the Whiteheads…hoping with her whole heart that she would not be made to feel ashamed of it.

"Oh, I see, a farm. How nice" Isobel said with privileged uncertainty, "so, you lived with your uncle?"

"A little" Maria said plainly, and not because of her lack of vocabulary. She never enjoyed talking about her uncle.

Again, there was another pause in conversation, the heaviness of Maria's short answer hanging over the dining table like smog.

"I trust your quarters are to your liking?" Jonathon asked the pair as the main course was served.

"Yes, thank you" replied Georg.

"And what do you think, children?"

"I love my room! There's a huge bookshelf in the corner" Brigitta enthused.

"How nice" Georg responded – smiling proudly at his daughter.

"And mine has a great view of the garden!" Louisa added.

"And mine and Gretl's room is huge!" Marta exclaimed in German.

"That's lovely, Marta" Maria replied in their native tongue, "but try not to shout at the table, dear"

"Yes, mother" she nodded.

"Good girl"

"Nothing is the matter, I hope" Isobel said to Georg.

"Everything is fine" he replied politely – not feeling the need to translate Marta's outburst.

But Isobel did not seem to appreciate being kept out of the loop.

"So…will you be learning English, Maria?" she asked, not impolitely, but Georg didn't trust it. A lifetime within Austria's upper class had made him suspicious of hidden subtext.

Reluctantly he translated.

"Oh…yes. I want to learn" Maria informed enthusiastically.

"How nice!" she smiled, "it will certainly make things easier for Georg"

"I don't mind translating" he shrugged.

"I apologise, I didn't mean to imply anything impertinent"

"It's okay" Maria told the older lady quietly – having recognised the apology – and she was given a smile in return.

"So, tell me, how did the two of you meet?" Jonathan asked with gusto, "I hope you won't think of me as being too inquisitive, but the last we heard you were engaged to Baroness Elsa Schraeder, and then suddenly you wed Maria"

Georg was silent for the shortest of moments, he had naturally been asked similar questions many times, but for the most part, it was just so that Austria's elite could add their own pieces to the gossip pool. It had made him more inclined to withhold any information regarding his and Maria's courtship – or lack thereof. But, as he eyed Jonathon, there was part of him that believed the man was asking through genuine curiosity – and he could hardly blame him. It was safe, he concluded, for Jonathon had no reason to spread gossip. However, the footman standing obediently alongside the table – whom he'd learnt was called Jack – he trusted less.

"You knew about Baroness Schraeder?" Georg asked.

"I know you never told us about her, but even we have access to the affairs of those in mainland Europe – and Austria is no exception"

"And we did like to know that you were well, Georg – in spite of what you may think" Isobel added.

"I appreciate that"

"So, you and Maria? I'm rather intrigued" Jonathan prompted, "I know that she worked as a governess, but I'm interested to hear how the two of you ever crossed paths"

"Well…Maria was _our_ governess" Georg coughed.

"_Your _governess?" Isobel repeated.

"Yes. I was governess for Georg and the children" Maria confirmed.

"Oh, well, this is all rather…interesting" Jonathan struggled, "Georg had mentioned about your employment background, we just never knew that you worked _for _him"

"Maria worked for us last summer" Georg informed.

"Only the one summer?" Isobel questioned.

"Yes"

"And then you married? Well, that all happened rather quickly"

"Isobel…" Georg began.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to pass any judgement, I'm just a little surprised, that's all. As Jonathon said, you were with Elsa Schraeder one moment, and the next you're marry somebody else – who just happens to be your children's governess…you must understand how it looks from the outside"

"Believe me, plenty of people chose to tell us _exactly _how it looked to them…we heard enough harsh gossip and hurtful rumours to last several lifetimes"

"I am sorry about that. It must have been hard on you"

"It was" Georg confirmed, "and it was especially hard on Maria. She didn't deserve the judgement she received"

"Still, I suppose if there's no truth in the rumour, then you needn't let it affect you"

"I wish it had been that simple"

"Can I assume that there is no truth to any of it?" Isobel asked, and at first, all Georg could do was raise an eyebrow at her.

"Should it matter? I don't understand why people should be so interested"

"I'm rather inclined to agree with you there, Georg" Jonathon chirped.

"It's one stance to have, I suppose" Isobel said – trying to hide her dismay. She had suspected that Georg would be reclusive when faced with the matter.

Still, much like her husband, Isobel Whitehead was not someone who gave up easily.

* * *

"His _governess_?" a young Lancashire woman exclaimed – only to immediately be hushed by the young man she was speaking to.

The footman pulled her closer into the shadowed corner and checked over his shoulder before speaking again.

"Yes, that's what he said – that she worked for him over the summer before they got married"

"It's unheard of – especially around here!"

"It's unheard of in Austria too, Hazel"

"There must be something more too it, if the Captain really was engaged to a Baroness, why on earth would he suddenly marry his children's governess?"

"There are a few potential answers to that question, and none of them are particularly flattering" the man replied with a self-satisfied sneer.

"What do you mean?" Hazel asked with almost endearing naivety.

At first, he only gave a low chuckle.

"I think it's quite likely that –"

"– I do hope you're not gossiping, Jack" came the established voice of the butler.

"Not at all, Mr Hudson – Hazel was just asking me a question"

"I'm not sure how many questions a kitchen maid has for a footman whilst they are still working" the older man said suspiciously.

"It's quite alright, I've answered it now" said Jack – slowly backing away from the confrontation.

"Good. We wouldn't want any more misconduct around here, would we?"

"Not at all, Sir"

In the next moment, the butler had walked away.

"You shouldn't lie to him, Jack" Hazel warned.

"I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, could I? Hudson would have my head if he knew what I'd been talking about"

"You shouldn't say it then" she protested.

"You enjoy the gossip far more than anyone else around here, Hazel. Don't play innocent, it's supply and demand, if you didn't want it, then I wouldn't give it" he added suggestively – causing the young woman to turn pale.

"I just wanted to hear about the baron and baroness, I'm always shut down here"

"That's not really my fault, is it?" Jack bit back.

"I never said it were" she replied quietly.

"So…" Jack said – taking on a completely different tone and running a hand down Hazel's arm, "…what is this gossip worth to you?"

Immediately she recoiled, and in spite of the fear in her eyes, fury washed over her features.

"Not that. Not again" she spat – instantly wounding Jack's pride.

He straightened his jacket with an angered motioned before turning on his feel and striding away – his jaw locked and mind whirling with things that Hazel would never want to hear.

* * *

Maria sighed inwardly as she brushed her hair at the vanity table, all too aware of her lady's maid busying herself with folding the worn and weathered dress she'd arrived in. She was touched that the young woman even bothered to take such care with her tattered clothes, especially since she would most likely have new ones by tomorrow. It was an admirable job, she thought, but it couldn't help but make her feel uneasy; it tapped into some sort of guilt complex when someone was doing all the things that Maria could do herself for her. But even though they had known each other for a few hours, Maria suspected that Alice was a very sweet young woman and was grateful for that comfort.

"Thank you, Alice" she said eventually – revelling in the ability to speak in German.

"It's no problem, Milady" Alice smiled.

"You must forgive me if I don't appear to be the sort of baroness that one would expect…I'm still rather new to this way of life"

"There's no need for you to apologise, Milady, I don't pretend to know about your past…" though, she _did_ know that Maria was not born into the upper class, "…but I know it must be difficult to settle into such a different way of life – especially in a new country"

"It is, but I really don't want to complain about it. I'd much rather just get on with everything. Complaining will either make it worse or make it _seem_ worse – and both of those are far too detrimental for my liking"

"It's an admirable attitude to have, Milady"

"Thank you, Alice" Maria replied with a warm smile and she felt her cheeks begin to heat up.

"Do you think you'll ever return to Austria, Milady?" Alice asked innocently, but Maria found that she could not answer – at least not right away.

Instead, she felt something heavy sink deep into the pit of her stomach, and a hand seemed to take a hold of her heart. She had tried not to dwell on it too much over the past year, but every now and then, reality would hit her once again and the pain would seem fresh. Would she ever see her home again?

"I'm sorry if I've caused you offence, it wasn't my intention"

"Huh? Oh, there's no need to apologise, Alice; I wasn't offended, I was just thinking" she paused briefly, "No, I don't think we will ever return, at least not for a while. It's too unsafe for us there"

"I am sorry to hear that; I can't imagine what it must be like to lose your home"

"Leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do" Maria admitted.

"But I'm sure there's a silver lining to be found in the fact that you now have a home here"

Maria smiled at the woman's optimism.

"Yes, you're very right, Alice. I am very grateful for the hospitality that Lord and lady Whitehead have shown us"

"I'm glad. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I'm fine thank you"

"Okay. Goodnight, Milady"

"Goodnight, Alice"

The pair shared one final smile before Alice slipped out of the room and into the inky blackness of the manor. Deciding that there was nothing else for her to do – the children had all gone to bed and it was nearing midnight – she wandered over to the bed before climbing in and settling against the headboard. The room really was exquisite, to the extent that Maria was practically stunned into speechlessness when she had first seen it. It was made up of mostly dark woods and deep blue silks – which shimmered elegantly from the flames of the fireplace. There were bookshelves and dressers tucked neatly into the corners and immaculately kept, and the windows boasted a breath-taking view of the gardens – including a delightful setae and armchairs perched right beside the glass. She had been truly blown away by it. She only wished she wasn't alone.

Georg had spent a good amount of the evening with Jonathon in his study, she had been unsure why, though, for even though he insisted that he accept his father-in-law's invitation, she could see through the glaze in his eyes and the tense twitching of his fingers that he didn't want to go. It was for propriety, she assumed, and she remember the countless tales Georg had told her of how he had accepted many invitations and had done a myriad of things he hadn't want to do, all for the effort of keeping face. It was madness to her, it really was, but she supposed that she was part of that world now and she just had to accept that this is how things were. Everything was about outward appearances.

And in the case of appearances, it was then that Georg made his, he opened the door slowly – welcoming the spilling light from the fireplace before finally stepping into the room.

"You're still awake?" he asked softly.

"Alice has only just left…and it didn't seem right to fall asleep without you"

He smiled at this.

"I managed to escape Jonathon and avoid our discussions going into the early hours of the morning"

"Did he want anything in particular?"

"No" Georg said plainly, "nothing really…I think it's just the way it goes, after dinner the men tend to go off and drink and smoke – you remember how it was in Austria"

"I do" she said thoughtfully – recalling the numerous times they had been separated at those elite soirees.

Then she noted his attire.

"You're already in your night clothes?"

"Yes, I changed in the guest room next door"

"Why didn't you change in here?" she asked – her tone lilted with her lack of understanding.

"Another trait of the upper class, I'm afraid. We change in separate rooms…I think it's mostly to do with the staff, though. Your maid shouldn't see me undressing and my valet shouldn't see you doing the same"

"I suppose I can understand that…after all, we share a name and a bed, it's not like it's nothing _we've_ not seen before" she giggled.

"Very true" he agreed with a silky chuckle.

"Come on, come and get into bed" she invited, and Georg certainly didn't need to be told twice.

He stripped himself of his robe before crawling beneath the soft covers; instantly Maria moved into his arms, and he held her against him lovingly. He felt her snuggle into his embrace – almost purring like a kitten – and he couldn't suppress the urge to give her a slight squeeze and to bury his nose into her hair. God, he loved her more than anything else.

"It's so nice to be in a proper bed" he heard her murmur into his chest.

"It is" he agreed.

"I can't remember the last time you and I were just allowed to lie back and enjoy each other's company…we were always worrying about what tomorrow could bring or where we could run to if we needed to…we were never allowed to simply live as people should"

"There will be no more of that. Life will be better from now on, I promise"

"I know I've mentioned this before, but I am so proud of you, Georg – and so grateful too. You have done so much for us, put yourself in so many vulnerable positions and managed to keep us safe throughout all of the chaos"

"I would do anything for you and the children"

"You didn't have to bring us here, though, I know how hard it was for you to face the Whiteheads again, and yet you did it anyway"

"Because it was the safest place for you and the children"

"Exactly"

"Again, I would do anything to keep you all safe" he said emotionally.

"I love you so much" she said simply, but he could hear how her throat was working furiously to keep her voice in check, to ensure she didn't cry from the weight of it all.

"I love you too" he replied just as seriously.

Maria adjusted her position then so that she could pull him in for a kiss, and as soon as their lips touched, she became completely lost in the world that was her husband. They were not tentative, instead their kiss was deep and drugging – hands lacing into the other's hair, bodies close together and their lips moving with a sensual fluidity that must only exist in the most passionate of love stories. And it was a declaration of not only their love, but of their victory and their promises to each other; a way to truly approach their safety and shared solitude. And, above all else, it was a thank you.

* * *

When Jonathan Whitehead entered his own room, his found his wife was still awake – her hair being rolled up into curlers by her lady's maid.

"I would've thought you'd be asleep by now"

"No, I came up late" she explained – though not really explaining anything.

"I see"

"You were with Georg?"

"Yes, I wanted to speak with him for a while"

"Was it about what I think it was?"

"Not particularly – now isn't quite the right time"

"I understand"

"Did you speak with Maria whilst we were absent?"

"I mostly spoke with the children…one can't really _speak_ with Maria, can one" Isobel sniffed.

"I suppose you're right"

"I don't really know what to make of her"

"Maria?"

"Yes. She's a lovely girl, of course – I truly don't doubt that – but she comes from nowhere, a governess and a mountain girl – no background, no title – it seems like such a waste for Georg…and not what our grandchildren are used to"

"Well, we all start from somewhere…" Jonathon reasoned.

"Take your family, you've said yourself that the Whiteheads built up their reputation over decades; when you were born, you had a title to walk into and you took it even further. Georg did the same. I don't know what Maria's maiden name is, but I'd be surprised if it goes past a few Austrian farmers"

"I have similar suspicions, but I suppose one never knows" Jonathon shrugged.

"One doesn't hear much in the way of Austrian gossip, but I heard from Hedwig – you remember Hedwig Schneider?"

Jonathon nodded.

"Well…" Isobel continued, "…she told me that Maria used to be a _nun_!"

"_A nun?!_" Jonathon scoffed in utter disbelief, "Where did she hear that?"

"It was common knowledge back in Salzburg, apparently she was sent to Georg by the Mother Abbess of…Nonberg abbey, I think…to work as a governess, and they were married before the summer was up"

"Sorry to interrupt, Milady" said the maid, "but will that be all"

"Yes, thank you, Elsie"

Silently, the maid left, and in her clutches was a mountain of new knowledge and gossip just waiting to be spilled.

"It's astonishing…" Jonathon breathed, "but why on earth would Georg marry a nun? …well, a postulant, I suppose"

"Perhaps she's not as innocent as one might believe" Isobel suggested quite sharply.

"Excuse me?"

"Figure it out, dear" she sighed.

"Oh!" he gasped as the realisation of his wife's words took hold of him, "surely not! I mean, if she had just been the governess, I might have believed it, but she was a nun for Christ sake! …besides, wouldn't that mean there would have been – I don't know – a miscarriage, or something? We still only have seven grandchildren, after all"

"Maybe there was one? There seems to be a whole plethora of things they haven't told us about this new wife of his…and I, for one, wish to find them out"

* * *

**Author's notes: Again, I'm terribly sorry for the wait, but I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. It took a little longer because not only is there quite a lot of stuff happening (and still some set-up - sorry!) but I also cut lots of things, added new bits in and did a lot of rearranging; so a lot fo the stuff in the next chapter was supposed to be in this one, etc.**

**I'm also going to have a lot more Maria and Georg interaction in the the next chapter, so don't worry if you feel like this one was lacking somewhat in regards to their relationship/dynamic.**

**Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

* * *

**Note: Exterior inspiration for Whitehead manor is _Hatfield House, Hertfordshire (UK)_**


	4. Chapter Two

**Author's notes: My sincere apologies for the wait, please blame my university, my dissertation, my job, and above all else, my poor time management skills. Anyway, I've tried out a few new things for this chapter, and a lot of it is based on when I lived in Japan. I really hope you enjoy it and I truly hope that it's worth the wait.  
**

* * *

**For better, for worse  
Chapter Two**

"_You've put me in an extremely difficult situation, surely you understand that"_

"_I think that my opinions regarding the whole ordeal hold little significance. The only thing that matters is your answer to the terms I've laid out"_

"_Have you no empathy or humility?"_

"_There are only two sides in this, both very different from what they once were. The question is, which side do you want to be on?"_

* * *

Maria awoke slowly at first, her mind and body still deeply sunken into the mattress and embraced by the warmth of luxurious sheets; but when the sound of a Goldfinch's morning serenade hit her ear, her peaceful awakening turned into a start, and the momentary misunderstand of her new surroundings caused her to sit upright with a confused bolt. She blinked several times – clearing away the fog – until the memories of the previous day came back to her. And then she relaxed. She remembered that finally she and her family were safe, and the imposingly rich room that still felt so very foreign was now a part of her new home. Although, it still didn't feel like one.

She sighed silently, she knew it would take time before she felt truly comfortable in the Whitehead manor – and England itself, for that matter – but she couldn't help but feel herself deflating within its historic walls. She supposed it was because she had never had a home during her childhood – not with her uncle, anyway – and both the Abbey and the villa had been the only places to ever offer her love and security, and so she had clung to them like a child to their mother's bosom. She had left both of those places against her own will, and their time in Switzerland had been corrupted by their own panic and trauma…perhaps she truly couldn't be blamed for her suspicions of the manor?

Then, of course, there were the Whiteheads; they had been welcoming enough, but Maria couldn't help but sense some degree of suspicion towards her, although, she supposed that was a given, after all, they knew nothing about her, and the three of them could barely even speak to each other. So unless Georg or one of the older children were present, the hope of ever bonding with her inherited in-laws was a lost cause. She truly wished that the circumstances were different, even if her English was just a little better, she was sure she would have the confidence to at least say _something_…but, alas, the hand of unfair fate seemed to be tightly wrapped around her throat.

Still, Maria brushed these thoughts to the back of her mind, just as she had done so the previous day; she had never been one to wallow in negativity and imagined catastrophes, and she wasn't about to start. It was early days, and she knew that once she was through the rocky terrain of her adjustment period, she would be able to bathe in the glory and comfort of the manor, just as she had done with the villa. And she was determined to strive to change everything for the better. Then, for the first time that morning she smiled – a breeze of positivity washing through her – but it faded to concern when she turned to the side and realised that her husband's side of the bed was empty and cold. She cocked her head at the sight and remained silent for a while. She could hear no noise from the en suite, and she simply assumed that he had already gone to breakfast and allowed her the luxury of some undisturbed sleep.

She blushed privately as she felt her heart swell, and she was convinced that she could live a thousand lifetimes and never be worthy of Georg, the man that he truly was or the love that he gave her and their children. How blessed she was. And so, with a brilliantly positive exhale that prepared her for the day, she swung her legs out of bed and swayed over to her the ridiculously oversized wardrobe; she was momentarily silent as her gaze fell upon the new dresses that had obviously been left for her, there were so many choices – and how wonderful they all were! Rich and vibrant dresses and ensembles of every colour and material imaginable, each piece with its own story to tell; she had dresses for every hour of the day, every conceivable social function and ones she was certain she'd never need. Even the collection of nightgowns provided threatened to overtake the number Georg had provided her with for their honeymoon, she was truly spoilt for choice. She ran her fingers across some of the fabric and bit her lip in excitement, some were soft, others silky, some elegant and some more plain, but each one was undeniably stunning and were the very epitome of the English aristocracy.

After a few more moments of admiration, she decided upon a simple light-coloured dress with a small, intricate floral pattern – finished off with plum-shaded sash at the waist and flats that matched. She allowed herself the treat of twirling in front of the mirror and a slight giggle escaped from her lips, the dress made her feel confident and a lot more at home than she had felt yesterday; maybe she did truly belong here? She left the bedroom with a beaming smile across her cheeks and a hummed, cheerful tune on her lips, believing that this was truly going to be her day. And she would have continued to believe it, had she not entered the dining room only to receive three slightly puzzled looks from its occupants – the footmen obviously remaining impartial on the surface. The room was only occupied by three others, Jonathon, Georg and another young man whom Maria assumed to be Edward – Georg's brother-in-law. Isobel and the children were nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, good morning Maria" Jonathon said – his tone was off.

"Good morning" Maria replied, utterly confused by the odd lilt in the man's voice.

"We – uh – weren't expecting you, dear" he offered kindly, but Maria only cocked her head in response, her mind working furiously on hopeless translations.

It was then that Georg rose from his seat and moved to join his wife in the doorway with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I was so exhausted last night that I forgot to mention the 'proper procedure' for breakfast"

She felt the cheerful glow sink from her cheeks, only to be replaced by a feverish blush that she wished she could banish to the heavens.

"Oh…have I done something wrong?" she asked wearily, her voice dropping in vigour and volume.

"Oh, no, no, not at all, it's just that we weren't expecting you to join us…you see – I really wish I had remembered to tell you, I'm _so _sorry – but usually married women in the household take their breakfast in bed"

"Oh, I see…I didn't even think about that"

"It completely slipped my mind, I'm afraid I've forgotten most of the English rules myself" he flushed.

"It's quite alright, at least I know now, right?" she beamed.

"Right" he agreed – smiling himself.

"So…what happens now, I can't exactly go back upstairs and get myself back into bed, can I?" she chuckled.

"No, that wouldn't do at all -" he smirked, "- come and join us, the kitchen will have prepared your food anyway, they just need to set an extra place"

"And it won't be a hassle?"

"Of course not" he smiled warmly.

She glided through the room and sat at an empty space at the table – on her husband's right so that she was across from the chiselled face of the man she still assumed to be Jonathon and Isobel's son.

"I do hope you don't think me rude, Maria, I'm glad you're joining us, but – as I'm sure Georg explained – we were all a tad surprised"

As always, Georg muttered a translation to her.

"I'm sorry. I will remember tomorrow" she replied in Jonathon's native tongue, presenting a confidence that she didn't quite feel.

In truth, making a mistake first thing in the morning had shaken her up a bit and the shame was already beginning to seep into her mind. She wasn't quite sure why, though, for she had done so many far more embarrassing things throughout her life – most of which had been at the abbey or in front of her now husband when she was only the governess. Yet it was these small – seemingly insignificant – blunders in a situation that was so new to her, that were starting to eat away at her self-esteem. She exhaled strongly and steeled herself yet again, she was not going to let this get the better of her, not on her very first day, she had to stay positive and take each mistake as it came, after all, it was nothing if not a chance to learn – something that she considered to be invaluable.

"So, you're the famous Maria" the third man introduced, "it's a pleasure to meet you finally, I'm Edward Whitehead" he said with a beaming smile.

"It's good to meet you too" she said rather shyly, her cheeks heating up as she tried desperately not to focus on his beaming smile and well-groomed locks of chestnut hair. She didn't catch her husband narrowing his eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't speak much German, I remember that your husband – and Agathe, in fact – tried to teach me some during their frequent visits, but I never managed to keep it up, I'm ashamed to say"

"It's okay" Maria replied – managing to understand the very core of his statement without a translation, "I don't speak English so…I think we're the same" she chuckled nervously.

One of the footmen – she didn't pay attention to which one – entered and set Maria's place at the table around her.

"Yes, I suppose we are"

"Your English is good for someone who has never studied it formally" Georg whispered to her.

"Thank you" she replied sincerely, though, her husband's comment did little for her confidence; and in her delicate state, she only seemed to focus on the fact that she was so horrifically inexperienced in the language. She knew he only meant well, and she absolutely adored him for that, but the whole thing just made her determined to stay as quiet as possible. She truly hated that.

"So, is this your first time to England, Maria?" Edward continued as Maria's meal was served to her.

"Umm…"

"Have you been to England before?" he rephrased kindly before Georg had a chance to help her out.

"Oh, yes, my first time. But I wanted to come when I was a child. England seems very pretty"

"It's a marvellous country! And you're right, it can be very pretty, especially around here. Tell me, Maria, have you ever ridden before?"

"_Reiten_" Georg told her.

"Yes!" she announced excitedly, earning her a look of exasperation from Mr Whitehead and a scowl from the footmen, "I – uh – I rode when I was a child. My _Onkel _had horses" she told him…her voice slightly quieter.

"I assume that means uncle?" Edward asked Georg – his voice flourishing.

"Yes" he grunted, though it seemed to have no effect on the Englishman.

"Well, I'm sur e Georg has already told you that we have some fine stables here, I'd love to show them to you"

"Oh, yes please!" she beamed after hearing the translation, "it has been such a long time. Sometimes I went with Georg…before…"

"Before you were married?" Edward prompted with a toothy smile.

"Yes" Maria nodded.

"Well, you shall have to get back into it. I could take you one day, unless of course Georg feels up to it?" he smirked.

"There's really no need for you to put yourself out, Edward" Georg replied with a forced smile.

"Oh, it's really no trouble, after all, Maria is family now"

"Nevertheless, I'm sure you must be very busy"

"Sometimes…but, who am I to stand in the way of a husband's quality time with his wife?" he shrugged, "but at least let me do the honour of showing her our fine stables"

"Of course" Georg permitted with a light sigh.

"Splendid. I shall look forward to it"

There was a brief lull in the conversation after that…and Maria once again found herself relishing in the silence – something that was usually so out of character for her. She felt as though the silence was the one thing that never judged her, but even then, it seemed to scream her inability to converse. She caught a glimpse of Georg out of the corner of her eye…how she wished she could reach out to him.

"Maria…" Georg began in their native tongue, "I only found out about this this morning, but Jonathon and I must travel to London today, I hope you don't mind?"

"London?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't want to leave you, but I'm afraid it's something that has to be done, so we may as well do it now"

"Why do you need to go all the way to London? Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing like that, we just need to see a few people about our refugee status and to ensure that nothing will jeopardise us staying here. It's insurance, so to speak"

"But we're still going to be safe here?"

"Yes, perfectly safe, I promise. It's just a few final details that need to be ironed out. Luckily you and the children don't need to attend, it's nothing overly official, so at least I don't have to drag you all out too"

"Well, it can't be helped, I suppose, and as long as it's keeping the children safe"

"I told you, you and the children are all I care about now"

"Will you be gone all day?"

"I'd imagine so. Jonathon has a private carriage on the trains, but they don't run too often, and the journey is quite a long one. But I promise I'll return the moment it's over"

"Okay, darling" she said with a smile, hoping to conceal the nervous twisting that had manifested in her stomach.

She understood that he needed to go, but she was not ready to be left alone on the estate, at least not yet. She knew it was her home, but that was the last thing it felt like to her. Maria was still treading carefully, terrified that one wrong move would lead to a plethora of judgement from those around her; she still felt as though she needed to prove that she not only belong in the aristocracy, but also that she belong with Georg. She wanted to Whiteheads to know that she was more than her roots, that she was not some shoddy replacement daughter and that she had grown and could adapt. But she also wanted them to accept her for who she was, wanted them to know that she did have a bold personality and that she was proud of it.

When engaged to Georg, she had seen far too often that people in the upper class disguised themselves so much in the public eye that they were almost unrecognisable as human beings. To them it was all about keeping face, about pumping life into every single required façade and making sure their masks never slipped. Truthfully, it scared her. She struggled to understand how someone could be so terrified of those around them that they would literally put their true selves to rest. She didn't want to do that. She didn't want her true self to crumble, and she didn't want to weigh herself down like that. She wanted to show that she truly was capable of achieving it all. She wanted to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother but wanted to show that not only could she be a lady of sophistication, but that she could also just be Maria.

But when breakfast finally came to an end, she swallowed her feelings and put on a brave face; it wasn't worth worrying over something that may not even happen. And she didn't wanted Georg to feel guilty.

"I truly am sorry about today" Georg told her once they were the only two left in the dining room.

"You don't need to apologise, darling" she smiled, "I suppose it'll give me some time to spend with the children, at least" she added cheerfully.

"Yes, you can take your mind off of things" her husband replied innocently.

"Things?"

"Yeah, you know, anything that is causing you stress"

"Do I seem stressed to you?" she asked – her eyes seemingly larger than normal.

"I think we're all stressed, Maria. But who could blame us?"

"You're right" she nodded slowly, "still, maybe the children can help me settle in a little more"

"I really wish I could be the one to do that. But maybe we can go for that ride tomorrow if you feel up to it?"

"I'd like that" she smiled, "I miss when we used to ride together"

"Me too" he smiled warmly.

"Everything seemed so much easier then…and I felt so free" Maria said with a fall of her eyes.

"I wish I could've given you that life forever"

But then she smiled,

"You have no reason to put yourself down. I'll never want for anything, not whilst I have you and the children. And I'd escape the borders of a thousand countries before I'd ever let anyone tear us apart"

He really did love her passion.

"Listen" he began softly after a fleeting glance at a nearby grandfather clock, "I'm afraid I have to go and meet Jonathon and the driver, he said we had to leave straight after breakfast if we're to make good time"

"Okay" she nodded confidently.

"I'll make sure that I'm back as soon as possible. Enjoy your day, okay? And don't be nervous, everything will be fine" he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her hairline.

"I'm sure you're right" she responded, convincing herself of her own words, "and I'm sure the children will keep me on my toes"

"I expect the little ones will have you out in the grounds whilst it's still relatively warm…especially Kurt and Louisa, they used to love exploring the estate. They used to give Isobel a heart attack when they'd disappear for hours at a time"

Maria giggled,

"That does sound like them! Hopefully we won't have to send out a search party today, though"

"No, hopefully not" Georg chuckled before turning serious again, his voice rich and melting against Maria's skin, "and I promise I'm going to make up for today. We can go riding, disappear into the depths of the estate, or I can give you foot rubs for the next month – anything you want" he told her with a luscious chuckle.

"I'll hold you to that" she replied lightly, trying to hide that the soft tendrils of his voice had made her want to tighten for grip in his waist and never let go.

"I'll see you soon, sweetheart"

"See you soon" she replied.

They parted with a soft yet solid kiss, one that Georg ensured lingered for far longer than was appropriate. But they didn't care. This was just for them.

* * *

England wasn't as warm as Maria had imagined. Maybe she had just always expected somewhere else in Europe to share the same climate? And whilst she had heard that the rainfall was nowhere near as persistent, she had to admit that the summer breezes had much more of a ferocious bite compared to the ones of her home. Still, she couldn't complain, the air was warm and soothing, enough to make her close her eyes and let her head fall back. All felt calm. Almost as if she were back in Austria, back on her mountain, with nothing around her but the beauty of nature and the song in her heart.

She felt her mind and heart focus as the wind played a gentle song when brushing against the trees, tickling them lightly enough to create hypnotic patterns and pieces of art. Birds sang gently as they feathered their nests and danced across branches with their mates; and the rays of the sun shared it's warmth with not only the occupants below it, but with the lake that could be seen glittering on the horizon. To Maria, the English summer was truly beautiful, everything she had imagine to the serenity of the nature and the peacefulness of the rolling hills. There was something so regal about it, as if everything from towering oaks to bashful robins knew that they were true a work of classic art – holding a special place inside everyone's heart.

"Mother?" she heard, and her musings were gently interrupted.

"Oh, I am sorry, Liesl. I was miles away" she chuckled bashfully.

"It's okay, I can empathise, it's so peaceful here"

"It really is, it reminds me a lot of home"

"I know what you mean. Just hills instead of mountains"

"They're still so tranquil, there's something very soothing about seeing one hill roll onto the next until they finally meet the skyline…it makes me think a lot about the mountains"

"Yeah, me too" Liesl nodded slowly, "I think that's one of the reasons why I never felt homesick when I came here as a child. So much of it reminded me of home"

"That must have been nice"

"It was. It was as if I was moving between one paradise and another"

"How lucky you were" Maria beamed, "what was it like spending time here when you were young?"

"Oh, it was magical" Liesl told her excitedly, "I never enjoyed the journey, but I think that just made it all the more worthwhile when we finally arrived – especially when we'd come during the summer and we were allowed to play outside. Myself, Fredrich and Louisa used to charge around the grounds all day, when it was time to come inside our clothes would be covered in mud – sometimes torn – and all we'd want was to have our dinner, but grandmother refused to let us into the dining room until we'd bathed and changed…come to think of it, it was a miracle she even let us back into the manor, considering the states we used to get into!" Liesl laughed.

"Oh my, that does sound like quite an adventure for you all. It's good to know you've always been trouble makers" Maria teased.

"We really were" Liesl replied gleefully, "I think mother and father found it funny, or they at least seemed to. They never told us off, anyway. Mother was often too kind to scold us unless she really had to, and I think father just liked seeing his in-laws being wound up"

Maria paused for a moment at the mention of Agathe, almost as if she were walking through shadows and someone else's memories; reminding her that she was in the home of another. The one that she would always be compared to.

"Did you come here every year?"

"We did for a while; we would usually come for the summer and often around Christmas time too. It was mostly because mother wanted to see her parents, but we always loved seeing them too. Father could've done without it, I think, he always seemed a little protective…"

Maria understood, ever since she'd known him, Georg had always been protective over his home and his family. It was his safe space.

"…but as the family grew, it became harder and harder to get everyone here smoothly, so we naturally didn't come as much. Sometimes grandmother and grandfather would come to Austria, but that only happened a few times…they didn't really like travelling, which was a shame, because I loved showing them around our home"

"Did you get along well with your grandparents when you were young?"

"Yes, very well. They were always so kind and loving. They never had much time to play with us, but we never minded too much because mother was always happy too…so was father, actually. And I suppose they're not really ones for playing – especially grandmother!" she chuckled softly.

"I suppose not, it doesn't seem like a favourite past time of theirs"

"You will grow closer to them, mother, they can just be a bit wary of people they don't know well"

"I'm sure we'll get on splendidly Liesl" – at least that's what Maria hoped – "we just need to get to know each other a little better. And it must be hard for them, they didn't see any of you for so long, and now here you are with a new mother figure instead…well, instead of their own daughter. It must be dreadfully hard for them"

"You have a heart of gold, mother" Liesl beamed.

"It costs nothing to be kind"

"That's very true"

"Liesl!" they heard from across the lawn, it was Gretl, who even though was the youngest, ironically seemed to own the loudest voice, "can you come and play with us please?"

"We need another fast person for tag!" one of her other siblings added.

Liesl sighed good-naturedly, she knew that she'd be needed in order to help out the little ones.

"Do you mind, mother?"

"Not at all, sweetheart, you go and have fun. I'll go back to soaking up the sunshine"

"Okay, I shan't be too long"

"Take your time, I know you enjoy it deep down" she jested with a wink, which caused Liesl to blush as she moved away from their place at the table.

However, instead of going back to her daydreams as she had claimed, she let her gaze fall on the children in question. She watched eagerly as they set us this immense game of tag that they had been planning before they were even ready to go outside; according to Louisa, that – along with large scale games of hide and seek – were always their favourites to play here. Probably because the estate is so much bigger and has so many more trees, Maria had mused to herself. In fact, she was dying to explore the little patch of woodland that sat on the outskirts of the Whitehead land. Still, there would be another day for that, today she had ensured that the children remained on the main part of the estate and within her eyeline…for now.

Louisa and Friedrich, as always, were the ringleaders of the game; not only had they appointed themselves as team captains but were also engaging in some – hopefully – friendly competitive banter. Maria couldn't help but chuckle, there were so many parts of Louisa that reminded her of herself. That young, raging spirit that couldn't seemed to be quelled by even the strongest wills of the those around her, the scuffed boots and worn dresses that she refused to take off every time she was offered something nicer or prettier; not to mention the love for 'unseemly' habits such as climbing trees, wading through streams and rough games of tag with boys rather than a quaint tea party with girls. Maria would take charging through a mountain any day and she could see that in Louisa too. But perhaps what she most admired was that the girl seemed to take pride in her rough-around the edges, boyish exterior, and that her father never discouraged it…it was always something that Maria was made to feel ashamed of.

"Okay, team!" Louisa announced, "we need to act smart if we're going to win"

"Do we have to Louisa? Can't we just play without tactics?" Brigitta groaned.

"And do we have to have teams too? Can't it just be a normal game of tag?"

"No!" Louisa and Friedrich responded in unison – with equal amounts of enthusiasm.

"They seem to be having fun" a warm voice said from behind Maria.

"Oh, hello" she responded awkwardly as Edward sat down next to her.

"Mind if I have a cup of tea too?" he asked – nodding toward the tray of cups and saucers on the table next to them.

"Please" Maria offered, before awkwardly watching him pour the beverage.

"Most people would argue that it's too warm for tea, but I don't think there is ever such an occasion. But perhaps I get that from my mother, I think she could drink piping hot tea in the middle of an African heatwave" he chuckled.

Maria smiled politely but had understood little to none of what he'd said. Oh, how she wished that Georg were here to help her out, she hated feeling so helpless and in need of his aid, but she just couldn't function in this world yet. Liesl had offered to help her with her English, and whilst she had told the girl that she needn't take up her time teaching her, she was now tempted to accept the offer.

"Sorry, I must be rambling, and I'm sure it's hard for you to get used to the language"

"It is difficult. But I'm going to learn and…try it a lot"

"Yes, practise makes perfect, after all" Edward smiled brilliantly.

"Yes, practise" Maria nodded thoughtfully.

"So, how are you finding the estate so far?"

"Pardon?" she asked nervously – her hands twisting angrily in her lap.

"Do you like the estate?" he repeated, gesturing to the surrounding grounds with a large hand movement.

"Oh, yes, I like it. It looks like _Österreich _– uhh – Austria"

"I agree. I visited your home in Austria once or twice when the children were younger, never for very long mind you, I always seemed to be travelling to one place or another, but if I was ever nearby I made sure to say hello. It's a lovely home, and Austria is such a beautiful country, more beautiful than good old England perhaps" he beamed.

"Yes…" Maria said slowly, hoping that she gave the correct response.

"Have you travelled much, Maria?"

"Have I…ummm"

"Travelled" he said again.

"Travelled" she repeated slowly, the word sounding so foreign on her tongue.

"Let's see…" Edward pondered, "I've been to a lot of places, like France, Italy, America, Austria…have you been to any?"

"I…uh…" she paused and felt her brow pucker and crease.

She felt so angry at herself, she knew what she was being asked and knew what she could say, but the words would not come to her, instead her mind became a blank wasteland, and that more she desperately clawed at the walls in the hope that the knowledge might come back to her, the emptier everything became. She felt stranded and utterly useless. She couldn't even speak!

"Sorry, Edward…I –"

"Hey! That's cheating!" came a squeal from the lawn, and both adults turned to see Louisa and Friedrich seconds away from launching into a headlock.

"We weren't cheating, we're just better than you!" Friedrich retorted.

"That's not true!" his sister bellowed.

"Oh, I—" Maria slurred in a panic. Hoping to get to the children before chaos could unfold, she practically leapt from her chair, however, the vigour of her movement caused her to knock the table and send a cup of tea spilling straight into Edward's lap.

He jumped up and wailed in surprise before rushing to swipe the hot liquid from his trousers.

"_Es tut mir leid!_" Maria cried, suddenly feeling like a rabbit in the headlights, not knowing whether she should help poor Edward, or make sure that the children stopped quarrelling.

"Stop fighting!" one of the children yelled.

Then, in a furious tantrum, Gretl cried,

"I don't want to play anymore!"

"Mother!" came Liesl's pleading voice.

And Maria just didn't know what to do. There was Edward in pain and hissing, the children were shouting, wrestling and fighting and time seemed to be non-existent. It was all here and all happening right now, all of it her messes to clean up, and yet she couldn't even find the strength to move a single muscle.

"That will be quite enough of that, children!" came a very English voice from behind Maria, and before she even knew what was happening, Mrs Whitehead moved past her in a flurry of expensive fabric.

And then everything fell back down to earth. When she looked again, Edward had retreated inside, presumably to change and assess any potential scolding and the children had fallen quiet, each one now wearing glum expressions and listening to the stern words of their grandmother. Finally, Maria let out a shaky breath and tried to process what had just happened. She'd never been so flustered before, there had been plenty of occasions back in Austria when the children had thrown worse fits and tested her patience to the very limits and she had always handled it well and remained collected, but here, everything seemed to have just fallen apart for her. She went from the frustration of not being able to communicate with Edward to suddenly pouring a scolding beverage over him and being rooted to the spot as her children fought and shouted for her assistance. She didn't know where it had all come from, but she felt useless and oh, so angry at herself…

It was in that moment that the children walked past her collectedly and back into the house, most of them hanging their heads in shame. All was quiet.

"You see, Maria, you just need to speak to them firmly if you want them to behave. Nothing too complicated. It certainly would've been more…_peaceful _had we had a nanny on hand to help, don't you agree?"

"I – uh – " she stumbled.

"Don't take it to heart, dear" she said unapologetically, sounding just like somebody else from Maria's past, "some people just take to theses thing better than others, it can't be helped"

And with that, the older woman disappeared back into the manor, leaving Maria alone once again.

* * *

She sighed once more as she gazed out of the window; the moonlight seemed to be the only brightness in her life. Neither Georg nor Jonathon had returned home at the expected time, which not only left her feeling desperately alone and so full of pain, but it had led to such a painful dinner with the Whiteheads. Without Georg as a translator, there had been little success in the others including her into the conversation, and eventually, they stopped attempting to. And whilst she couldn't blame them for that, the whole ordeal had made her feel so inadequate. Why was she so incapable of speaking?! She just couldn't seem to figure it out. Every time she even attempted it her words failed her, or her mind went blank and it became utterly impossible for her to draw on her already limited knowledge of the language. As if something evil would take over her tongue and she was left floundering around like a fool. She hated it. She couldn't even talk to her family…

There was a shy creak from behind her.

Georg – a shadow of guilt hanging over him – had intended to sneak into the bedroom quietly, hoping to not disturb his wife during her slumber; but when he urged the door to open slowly, he found Maria very much awake inside.

"Oh, I thought you'd be asleep" he murmured in surprise, "it must be at least two in the morning"

"I couldn't sleep" she sighed from her place at the window seat – the broken moonlight gliding over her cheeks like a lover's hand. She hugged her dressing gown closer to her frame. "You were gone for a long time" she added.

"I know…I didn't intend to be, but we had some trouble getting back from London, and there was something that Jonathon wanted to discuss when we return"

"What did he want to talk about that was so urgent?" she was concerned about him, Georg could tell. He saw it in the damaged shimmering in her eyes.

"Something stupidly complex and equally boring, I'd hate to unload it all onto you"

He paused for a moment, loosened his tie and took a moment to observe his wife. He didn't know if it was due to the ungodly hour or the dying spark of the moonlight, but there was something about her that just made her look so…frail. He didn't like that. There was something about the way she was holding herself too, she was perched stiffly on the window seat, facing towards and away from him all at once; and she seemed so conflicted, stuck between two treacherous paths or two evils. Stuck on the edge of defeat.

"Maria?" he prompted as he stepped further into their room – closing the door softly behind him.

"Yes?" she responded simply, knowing deep down what his next question was going to be, and hoping desperately that she didn't have to answer it. She didn't think she'd be able to say it all out loud.

But his question didn't come immediately, and when she looked up from her feet, she simply saw him studying her, his eyes glazed over with worry, his fingers twitching as a subconscious signal of his distress over her. It was something he always did when he couldn't fix something he so desperately wanted to. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, knowing that he was brimming with loyalty to her, knowing that he was about to offer to do whatever he could to take her pain away. He took a few more steps towards her, allowing the moonlight to gently graze his cheeks.

"Are you okay, darling?" he eventually asked, his voice so soft that she almost missed it.

Almost.

He watched as her shoulders tensed before releasing completely into a sag, but she held his gaze, her eyes sparkling for so many seconds until he realised that she was crying.

"Maria?" he almost exclaimed, "what's wrong?"

But he received no answer, for as soon as the words had left his mouth, he found Maria launching herself up from the window seat, tumbling into his arms and pressing her lips firmly against his in a heated kiss that practically left him breathless. He responded for only a few moments before coming to his senses and pulling away.

"Maria, what-?"

But she silenced him with another forceful kiss.

"Please…" she breathed, her chest already heaving against his, "I've had the most awful day…I just want to forget all about it…" her words were punctuated by the searing kisses she was leaving across his jawline and down his neck…they were so intoxicating that it took all of Georg's strength just to keep him upright.

"I want to feel like I'm in control of something" she added gruffly, her voice laced with heady arousal.

And that was the last thing she said to him. Before Georg could even think of a response, Maria was pressing her lips to his once again, creating sparks from the sheer intensity of their connection. He responded to her kiss instantly, pushing his lips against her own and heightening the contact; he had intended on taking things slowly with her, had wanted to love her fully and with deliciously slow precision. But his wife had other ideas. She kept the kiss feverish, practically dripping with desperation, before her hands ran up his chest, his neck and raked through his hair like claws – pulling him closer and holding him tight. She needed that security, needed something she loved to cling to through fear she may fall if she stood alone. It was then that Georg abandoned all hope of a tender reunion, and instead he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him, completely tangling them into one.

So many emotions were clashing, need, arousal and frantic desire, all pooling between them and rising up towards boiling point, it was like a rush that threatened to overwhelm them completely. He felt his wife invade his mouth with her tongue, and his knees almost buckled as it danced with his like hot silk, curling and stroking until his mind was in a frenzy. He groaned int her mouth, completely unable to control himself. She was filling every single one of his senses and it was deliciously overwhelming. But Maria wasted no time, soon she was clawing at his jacket, his tie, his shirt buttons, anything she could get her hands on until his chest was completely bare and she was able to kiss and lick every inch of hot skin and muscle that she could find.

Georg growled, beginning to worry about how long he'd be able to last through this sweet torture, his wife's mouth was hot and seemed to lavish every part of him, paying attention to particularly sensitive spots that only she knew about. In the end, he had no choice but to reach out and grip their four-poster bed through fear that his legs were no longer strong enough to keep him upright. And then she dropped to her knees.  
He couldn't restrain himself, another baritone moan came from his throat, he knew exactly what she was planning, and in anticipation he kicked of his shoes and moved to sit on the edge of their bed; and she followed him hungrily, like a wild cat ready to hunt. She unbuckled his belt swiftly and with practised hands, and with a shift of Georg's hips, the last layers of fabric were removed. She moved her head in slowly, ran hot and sensual kisses along the inside of his thigh and allowed her hair to feather touches across his straining arousal. She grinned at his groan. He was harder than marble, she could tell, and knew that he was desperate for her to do what she was silently alluding to.

Without any further preliminaries, she took the base of his arousal in her hand, revelled in the smouldering, silky texture within her palm, and moved it slowly up and down, giving a light squeeze with each stroke. Georg hissed in response and she felt his hips buck towards her. She grinned again and gifted him with further strokes and more firmer squeezes before letting her hot breath trickle over him. She knew just how to touch him, knew exactly what would drive him to the brink of madness. Maria looked up and saw that his eyes were tightly closed, his lip trapped forcefully between his teeth and his head had rolled back. He was practically melting, and she'd only just begun.

Eventually, as his fingers laced into her hair, she leant forward and took his arousal into her mouth and took great pleasure in the full-body shudder that rippled through him as she did so.

"Oh, god…" he cursed as she began to her mouth and tongue gliding up and down him. Even now, the reactions that she could coax from him were utterly thrilling to her. It made her feel important…powerful. She continued to move teasingly, pulling from him a plethora of moans and panted breaths, knowing that the hot, wet pulling of her mouth and tongue were insanity to him, and each second was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"Maria" was his next strangled word; he was already losing his precious control.

As his wife's movements quickened, taking him deeper into the warmth of her mouth, Georg could feel his thighs contracting forcefully, his breathing quickening and lifting to the heavens, and his heart practically bursting from his chest. He gripped her hair tighter – his hand close to shaking – as something orgasmic began to coil in the deepest pit of his stomach, his groin, the base of his spine, it seemed to be crackling through every single inch of his body, and he was desperate for the release, could feel it getting stronger and stronger –

And then she pulled away.

Georg gasped suddenly at the loss of contact and almost choked out several curses, but when he looked down and saw the glint in Maria's eye, he knew it had been intentional.

"You little minx" he smirked.

She said nothing, only grinned wickedly in return before rising to her feet and kissing him, hard. Her hand shot out to cradle his head and kiss the full and forceful, and she took from him all that he could give. The kiss was scorching, and dragged them deep into an abyss of passion, and it swirled around them like ink in water, swallowing them whole until all was dark and utterly delicious. And in the pure heat of the moment Georg gripped his wife's waist and held her tightly; he needed to be inside of her, but to his shock, she pushed his hands away.

"Hands to yourself" she drawled, "or else they'll be tied"

In that moment, Georg didn't know if it was possible to be any more aroused. His throat suddenly grew dry, his skin ablaze, and he was sure that one more comment like that from her would send him straight over the edge.

"Do it" he choked.

Again, she said nothing, she simply gave him one final long and full kiss before biting down on his lip when she pulled away – not bothering to soothe the pain with her tongue. Without breaking eye contact, she swiftly pulled the belt free from her silken robe and secured both his wrists with a tight knot; one that she knew may leave marks so that this would be all he thought of the following morning.

"Lie down" she told him. And he obeyed without question.

And then the flurry of ecstasy began again. In the blink of an eye Maria's nightgown was on the floor and she scrambled onto the bed and straddled him, her thighs clamped tightly around his frame and her body pinning him into the mattress like a prisoner. His hands tied above his head, Georg looked up at her with a smouldering intensity, every single synapse seemed to be fired up and he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"Please" he eventually breathed minutely, and that was when _Maria _seemed to lose it.

She leant forward and latched her lips to his neck, trailing fiery kisses up and down before finding a spot at the base and sucking. Georg groaned as his wife once again dragged him into a frenzy of arousal and desperation as her lips kissed bruises to his neck. He could feel the wild flames of desire liking at his groin and he needed to be inside of her. But when he caught her eye again, he saw a new kind of emotion, something beyond desperate arousal, no, there was something that had rooted itself in Maria that meant she needed this like Oxygen, like it was the very blood that coursed through her veins. Beneath his aching desires, he could feel his heart swell for her.

He rose his hips to meet hers and felt her responding whimper as much as he heard it, and it was clear that she could stand it no longer. She rose up slightly before taking him into the warmth of her body. Both shuddered violently at the sensation of being joined; and for Maria, the sensation of being deliciously stretched and filled was only the beginning. She began rocking her hips instantly, setting a frantic pace, her body snapping in a desperate rhythm, and she took all that she needed from him. She needed this. She was finally taking some control, had stripped the dominance from her husband and had taken it as her own; and as the heat and emotions rose, she could feel herself detaching from the pains that the world had given her. Instead it was just the white-hot fire of her sheer unbridled love and desire for her husband, the feeling of him inside of her and the molten ecstasy that came from the friction.

Their eyes never left each other as she continued with her desperate pace, her moans flying unashamedly from her throat and filling the space between each wall. It became almost torturous, to hold off on her own release until she had taken all that she needed, but at this point, it was survival, and Georg was more than willing to give every last morsel that he had. He snapped his hips to meet her with every thrust, sending shockwaves through them both with each movement. It was exhilarating to watch her not only take exactly what she needed, but to extract his own pleasure from only what she was willing to give. There was something about this Maria – so different from the nervous bride he had taken to Paris – that not only saddened him, that drove him into a frenzy so erotic, he wasn't sure if he'd ever recover. But he surrendered himself to her and did all that he could to give her the pleasure she craved.

Maria's groans grew louder, and turned into scratched whimpers as pure fire began to pulse through her veins, and she could feel the tell-tale signs of her release building inside of her, it bubbled menacingly in her stomach, growing in intensity with each hard thrust. She gave it one final push, drove the rhythm into something utterly mad and uncontrolled, and then, with her fingers digging into his chest and an announcing wail, she came apart. It rippled through her like blinding light, filled every inch of her, crackled across every nerve and sent shockwaves and shudders through her that were so intense she could barely see. And through it all she somehow heard the moans of her husband, announcing that he too had reached his end.

She remained upright for just a second longer, but when she caught Georg's concerned and loving gazed everything fell apart. She let herself fall, not only into his arms, but she allowed her walls to finally crumbled and that's when she finally began to _feel_. And then, she simply cried.


	5. Chapter Three

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm so sorry that this has taken so long, I have been very busy with my dissertation, but I'm doing my best to write as often as I can. I hope you are all safe and healthy in these difficult times.**

**This chapter has been split in half so that I could get an upload up faster. Chapter four will be up soon and will be the second half to this one.**

* * *

**For better, for worse**

**Chapter three**

"_You know which side I want to be on, but you must know that there's no such thing as black and white"_

"_Of course there is. There's always two sides to every moral compass"_

"_Not in this situation! How can you continue to speak to me and have such a lack of empathy?"_

"_I could choose to not help you, if that's what you'd prefer?"_

"_No…please don't…I need your help"_

* * *

"I don't want to hear your stupid gossip, Jack!" Hazel, the young maid hissed as she busied herself with lighting the drawing room fire.

"I only wish I could believe you" Jack smirked as he moved around her slowly, prowling.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" she snapped with exasperation.

"It means exactly what I said to you last time, supply and demand"

"Well, I'm getting rid of the demand" she sniffed.

"No you're not. You thrive off of it. I know you, Hazel"

"Leave me alone!" she spat quietly. She tried to push past him, but the footman caught her by the wrist.

"I know how you like to portray yourself, the lovely little maid from downstairs who's as innocent as lilacs and is too hard done by, but we both know that's not quite true, don't we?"

She said nothing.

"Mmm hmmm, little Hazel from downstairs also has a thirst for secrets and shadowed knowledge, likes to know all that she can about everyone who roams these halls. Gets a forbidden rush every time she hears something not intended for her"

"You don't know me" she protested.

"I know you too well" he purred grossly. His aura threatening.

She tugged roughly on her arm until he released his grip.

"I want nothing to do with you!" she snarled, but as she was about to make her exit, he spoke words that turned her blood to ice,

"All this coming from the woman who followed me to my bed one faithful night"

She whipped around instantly, her stomach hollow, her veins icy and her hands ready to tremble. Jack smirked menacingly at her.

For a moment, all she could do was stammer helplessly.

"Don't…don't ever talk of that! I- I didn't follow you anywhere, I was…it was a mistake!"

"If you say so, sweetheart"

She thought she was going to be sick.

"It was a mistake" she repeated as her delicate frame became to shake, "and it won't happen again – I won't let you—"

"Now, now, keep your voice down, you know how quickly gossip spreads"

She didn't speak again.

"Now, would you like to know what I've heard about the 'wonderous' Mr and Mrs von Trapp?" he sneered with sick amusement.

Hazel could only nod.

"Wonderful"

* * *

Georg had held his wife protectively throughout the night, had embraced, caressed and comforted her until her tears stopped and they were finally able to talk. And talk they did. They talked until Maria could no longer keep her eyes open, until her words became loosely strung and ended up in eventual silence. He had given her everything she needed until she was finally able to succumb to slumber. So, when the sun woke him, he was briefly startled to not only find his arms empty, but his wife's side of the bed too. He propped himself up on one arm, the sheets pooled around his hips and the sun skated across his bare chest, and he surveyed the scene around him. Truthfully, he had expected to wake with her…perhaps her absence was a sign of positivity? His suspicion was somewhat confirmed when he heard water gushing from the sink in their en suite; at least she was up, he thought to himself. He hoped that their night-long discussion had helped her to stand up to her newfound demons and that she was able to tackle the day ahead. Nonetheless, he was going to make sure it was a joyful one for her; he planned to take her riding like he had promised.

He lay back against the pillow and pulled the duvet up to his torso – since England was still far from being decently warm in the mornings – and sighed with a strange sort of emotion that he could not place. He was not quite content, but after Maria had finally expressed her perils to him the night before, he couldn't deny that light relief was now continuously washing over him. And what a talk it had been. She had spoken of so much. She told him that everything she had gone through the previous day had made her feel utterly useless – as if she were painfully out of place where everyone seemed at home. How she felt like very single effort wasn't good enough and she just felt stranded, but worst of all had been the language barrier.

He tried so hard to empathise with her. She had admitted that perhaps she had overreacted – perhaps she hadn't – and although she was rarely one to give up (take her first night as their governess, for instance) the anxiety that her lack of proficiency gave her was an all-new level of suffocation. She felt muted. She felt buried. She felt trapped. To her, it was like being stuck in a foreign world where sha had no place, no face and no mind. She could not talk to those she wanted to know better – to think of as family – she could not speak her mind, nor express her personality. She had no identity here. She had a task to immerse herself in a new culture and within her new family, and yet, she was unable to do just that because she could not communicate effectively. He couldn't imagine how she felt, to be so very desperate to do something, to try your absolute all and to have it be rendered completely futile. Afterall, language was the very backbone of their society and it was a skill she did not possess.

No wonder she had needed to control their intimacy last night, it seemed in that moment it was the only thing in their life she could control, with the rest of the world around her shoving her into the shadows of silence. No wonder she had broken down in his arms when they had both come apart…and no wonder she felt so helpless in their new world. No wonder.

The door opened then, and Maria emerged with her robe hanging loosely around her nightgown.

"Good morning" she greeted almost bashfully – running a hand through her cropped hair as she did so.

"Morning" he said back to her as he sat back up in bed, the duvet once again falling to his waist and revealing his chest.

Maria only smiled. To anyone spying who did not know her, it would seem as though she was flashing him and ordinary smile. But Georg _did _know her. And he could see the daring spark of attraction in her eyes; there was no mistaking it. She was ogling him invisibly and it thoroughly thrilled him to know it. He couldn't help but wish he had the same view of her.

"Come here" he beckoned with a voice like melted butter, his words punctuated with a slight, inviting tilt of his head.

She walked calmly, but came to him instantly, shredding her robe as she climbed beneath the sheets and moulded herself to his warm chest, the warmth of his body surrounding and comforting her instantly. Georg wrapped an arm around her and held her tight, and absentmindedly let his fingers trace patterns on her through the silk of her nightgown. She sighed with tranquillity and seemed to be on the verge of slipping into her own reverie; it truly warmed his heart to see her settled and seemingly happy. It had hurt him so very deeply the previous night when she was suffering, when she had completely broken in his arms after their lovemaking. He had never seen her like that, not since they had escaped from the Abbey and were safely out of Austria.

And as much as their intimacy had thrilled him, to reflect upon it almost caused chills. He knew that his wife could be passionate, that side of her had grown in confidence in their months together, and he adored that part of her too. But he had never seen her like that before. Desperate to the point of being robbed of who she was, she had been fuelled by so much need that when he looked back, he realised that he hardly knew that woman. That had not been his Maria. It was a version of her that had emerged from her desperation, from her hunger for stability. And it broke him to know that she felt so helpless that it had driven her to a brief state of emotional deterioration, even if it had only been for a night.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he eventually purred.

"Better, I think…well, maybe – hopefully"

"Maybe?"

"I've decided to really tackle today head-on, get a head start on it before it has the chance to drag me back down. I'm ashamed that I let it get the better of me yesterday – it's not like me – but I'm not going to let it happen again"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of…yesterday was harsh on you and I wouldn't blame anyone for getting upset"

"I'm still ashamed of how I reacted, I don't l know why I let everything get on top on me like I did…or why I expected our move here to be the sudden end of our strife"

"I know that this adjustment hasn't been easy on you, Maria. But…" he continued as he sat up in bed and crossed his legs. He beckoned her with a soft pat to join him and she did. She sat in front of him, mirrored his pose awkwardly in her nightgown and let him take and squeeze her hands,

"…I know who I married" he said warmly, "I know how strong you are. I can only imagine how you must feel, you're in a completely new world, one that the children and I all know, and you're a part of us which means you're a part of all of this too"

"I don't feel like it…"

"I know. And I'm sorry I didn't have the foresight to predict this. But I know that you have the faith and the resilience to get through this. No one else I know would've put up with seven badly-behaved children and their monstrous father with the same strength that you did" he smiled, a glistening in his eyes, "and there's no one else who can conquer the aristocracy and the stuffy family of a British manor house like I know you will"

All Maria could bring herself to do was smile and blush at the sheer love that he was giving her. It seemed like with each passing day she was becoming more and more grateful for the pillar of strength that he was to both her and their children. She'd never be able to live without him. This moment that they shared, this moment of crossed legs, entwined fingers and glistening tenderness was so very simple. And yet it radiated pure intimacy. It was a perfect portrait of who they were as man and wife and as lovers. Wholly supportive, wholly seductive and wholly smitten. It seemed to be only them in this world, a brief bubble of raw emotion, entwined hearts and completely frozen in time. This was them at their most naked. And this was them at their strongest.

She ran her hand down his cheek and held it there for a moment. Her sweet, sweet Georg.

"Never in my life have I loved someone as much I love you. And never have I had someone support me in the way you do" she hummed.

She did so like to speak in poetry. They both did.

"Thank you, Georg. I've told you time and time again that I'd never be able to get through this – or any of my hardships – without you by my side."

She looked at him for a heartbeat longer, her eyes glistening as she willed herself to say more, to produce more poetry, but she could no more will herself than she could will her heart stop beating. There was a beautiful impossibility within them. A defiance of gravity itself.

Instead she leant forward and kissed him softly, for it was the only true way to express all that she felt for him. Every shred of love, of gratitude and every ounce of their intimate connection was poured into that kiss. And for all of the passion and flames that lay within in, the kiss remained tender and calm, as if to say that even though all fires burn bright, not all need to swallow the horizons; for a firefly carries the same beauty as a volcano. They were fireflies in this moment. Elegant and erratic, moving in their own unique dance that worked for no one else but them. Creating art. They were the light of a thousand candles, winged and free, proving that no hardship was too much for them.

* * *

Maria had considered requesting to dine with the family again that morning but thought better of it. She had vowed that this day was her first day to truly learn – and follow – the rules of the manor. So, once he had dressed, Georg left her in bed with a peck on the forehead and she nervously awaited, Alice, her lady's maid. When she had first laid eyes upon her, Maria had instantly felt comforted, very unlike how Georg's assigned footman, Daniel had made her feel with his leering eyes and twitching smile. Plus, the girl could speak German - something that instantly soothed the palpitations of her heart. She suspected that Alice couldn't be much older than herself, perhaps even a little younger, maybe that would make her feel more comforted too, someone within this strange, new world who was more like herself.  
No, she was not going to do this today, the anxiety was not going to get the better of her. She cleared her mind and took a deep breath – filling her mind with soothing thoughts as she exhaled.

_You do not need to worry about whether she is like you or not, you do not need to search for your parallel in this world, this is your world too now. This is where you belong, you need no parallel, you need only you. You are enough and you will be fine. More than fine. You can do this. _

Then a knock at the door came.

"Bitte treten sie ein" she responded without thinking. She hoped it was Alice.

"Guten morgen, Baronin" came the timid German response.

Then in walked the young maid that had helped her briefly with her routine on the night of her arrival. She was carrying a breakfast tray, and her deep brown eyes glimmered with innocence and a yearning for life and love that Maria knew all too well.

"Guten morgen, Alice" Maria smiled, a weight lifting from her chest as she knew she could speak freely in her mother-tongue.

"Did you sleep well, Baroness?"

"I did, thank you"

Alice went further into the room and placed Maria's breakfast tray on Georg's side of the bed. She smiled and thanked the maid, though she didn't touch it right away.

"You must wake early to start your duties?" Maria asked with a genuine smile.

"I wake at dawn every morning, Baroness, all rooms must be cleaned and prepped before the family are served their breakfast"

"It reminds me of when I was still at the abbey" she reminisced, "we always had to be up dreadfully early for our morning prayers, but I always managed to wake and hour or two early and sneak out to spend some time on the mountains" she blushed joyfully.

"So, you were a nun before, M'Lady?" Alice asked out of turn. Her eyes widened once she realised what she had done, an apology was about to tumble from her lips, but Maria spoke before she had the chance.

"Oh yes, well, I wasn't a nun, I was a postulant. The Reverend mother never agreed to let me take my vows, but thank god that she didn't or else I never would have married Georg…and I never would have made a good nun anyway" she giggled.

Alice smiled, Maria was so unlike the other guests and aristocrats she had served. She was so warm, so _human_.

"Did Lord and lady Whitehead inform you of my being a postulant? I wasn't aware that they knew"

She hesitated for just a moment, the venomous voices of staff gossip from downstairs ringing in her ears,

"I'm afraid I can't recall, baroness" she replied timidly.

"Well, I suppose it must have bee them. They knew a lot about me before our arrival" she pondered, "You poor dear, your head must be frightfully full with all you have to remember"

"Quite, M'lady"

Alice could not bring herself to even begin to divulge the rumours that were spreading about her downstairs. Dreadful things. She didn't believe a word that came out of Jack's mouth, so she had written off the idea that the Baron's new bride could even have worn a nun's habit. But now that it had been confirmed – and so easily too – she wondered if anything else had possibly been true…

Oh, the things that man had said! He had spoken of lies, deception, adulteration…it made her mind race just recalling it.

"Is everything alright, Alice?" Maria asked sweetly.

Alice smiled,

"Yes, Baroness"

"I must say, Alice, your German is really quite impressive for someone who is not native"

"Oh, why thank you, Baroness" she replied, trying to remain humble and to keep her cheek from flaming.

"How did you learn?"

"Well, there's some German blood in my family, mostly on my father's side, so I was able to practise with my relatives. I think my parents wanted me to learn, but I wasn't able to get in as much practise as other bilingual children. And it was quite the controversy after the war. I was only really able to use it with grandparents and never anyone else. Especially in public"

"Oh that's such a shame" she sighed.

"I don't mean to bring up a sensitive subject, Milady"

"You needn't feel bad, Alice. I appreciate you speaking to me honestly. Perhaps I have just misread things, but I feel like that's a rare quality in these circles"

"I couldn't possibly say, Milday"

Maria smiled softly,

"No, of course not"

"Will you be requiring anything else, Baroness?" Alice asked kindly.

"No, I don't think so. You may leave if you have other duties to attend to"

"Thank you, Milady. Will you be requiring any help dressing at all?" she asked, remembering a previous conversation where Maria had stressed her discomfort with the way the British aristocracy seemed to have servants in abundance.

"No thank you, Alice. I think I'll relieve you of that duty until further notice. It's just not what I'm used to or comfortable with. No disrespect, of course"

"None taken, Milday" and she meant it, "enjoy your breakfast and enjoy your day too"

"Thank you"

The young maid left then, and as she did, Maria's smile seemed to follow her. Maria felt a warmth spread in her chest then, and it filled every vein with a sense of comfort, the kind that made her feel like her feet were firmly on the ground, but her head was still allowed to float blissfully into the clouds. She felt as though she had found someone within this crazy new world that she could confide in.

She knew of course that she had Georg, and that he would always be the one that she would go to, for the connection between their two hearts seemed so undying that it sometimes made her breathless. But like Maria and the children, Georg was from the outside, even in spite of the Whiteheads being his family and all the time he had spent here previously. Alice, however, was part of the very soul of Whitehead manor, she helped to keep its heart beating and was a hand to hold in the throes of newfound uncertainty. And, hopefully, she would become a friend too.

* * *

Whilst the generous blaze from the sun was a gift welcomed by the Englishmen and women across the country that day, it was not the easiest circumstances to keep the children focused in. Maria knew that Jonathon and Isobel – Isobel especially – disapproved of her being allowed to raise and school the children in the same hands-on manner that she did back in Austria, but centuries of emotional repression and a desire to keep active conflict at bay meant that neither of them had vocalised their disapproval since the day they arrived. She wasn't sure if Lady Whitehead would eventually yield her power and insist upon a nanny and cause the inevitable war, but for now, she was making the most of the peace that lay at face value.

But her focus was not on the potential of brewing conflict, but instead on the scattered thoughts of her brood. She surveyed the children the school room; Brigitta was working hard on her literature work like she always did, Fredrich was not entirely focused but was certainly trying not to let his mind wander from his history studies, and dear Liesl was doing her best to help the little ones with their spellings, but much like Louisa and Kurt, the two youngest could not keep their focus on the pages of their books and the pursuit of knowledge. No, they were in pursuit of something much more luxurious: British sunshine.

Maria looked at the freshly polished grandfather clock in the corner, the children had been working for a couple of hours at least, ideally she wanted them to continue, not only for the benefit of their education, but so that she could begin to prove herself to her mother and father-in-law. But as she took one more look at the longing faces of her children, their glistening eyes fixed with desire on the luscious green grounds that glowed like happiness underneath the sun. She couldn't deprive them of that, not whilst knowing that the weather in this new country was as prone to change as everyone assured her. She wanted them to grasp every single strand of happiness, especially after all of the strife and struggles they had been through.

"Children" she said to get their attention, a mischievous smirk on her face as she did so.

They all looked at her.

"It seems to me that you are all a tad distracted" she continued in a fake tone that made her sound far too much like a disappointed teacher for their liking.

They said nothing, instead they only looked at each other sheepishly.

"I suppose I have no choice but to dismiss you immediately and to insist that you go and play outside in the sunshine" she added with a laugh.

All seven pairs of eyes shot to her immediately, each accompanied by a dazzling smile.

"Really, mother?" asked Kurt excitedly.

"Of course, darling. I don't see why we all shouldn't enjoy such a wonderful day…besides, you can all make up for it tomorrow" she teased…although she was quite serious.

Although the summer was still young, she knew the end would come around soon enough, let them enjoy it whilst they can, she thought.

"Will play with us too, mother?" Marta asked whilst tugging on her skirt.

Maria chuckled warmly,

"Yes, dear I will. Why don't you all run along, and I'll join you once I've cleared up your school things"

"You don't need to do that, one of the maids will do it" Louisa said offhandedly.

"Oh…" Maria replied – she was slightly taken aback, not only from forgetting who and where she was now, but at the easy adjustment of her daughter, "well, I suppose I should go and find someone…"

"You don't have to" Louisa told her, "someone will check the room once we've left and they'll tidy it up then"

"I see. Thank you for letting me know, Louisa" she replied, hiding her discomfort. Could she really get used to this kind of lifestyle?

The children all filed out in an excitable group, but it was Liesl who hung back somewhat.

"Thank you for helping today, Liesl, I know it isn't overly exciting for you, but I really do appreciate it"

"It's no trouble at all" she smiled, "I rather enjoy it"

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Still, you are not far away from become a woman"

It was true, she was sixteen going on seventeen no more, her eighteenth birthday would be there to greet her loyally along with the arrival of autumn.

"It almost feels strange…like I can't believe the years have gone by so quickly"

"It's natural to feel like that Liesl, most everyone does, but you have so much excitement to look forward to. You'll be able to do whatever you want in life; and whether it be big or small, it will be you very own adventure"

Liesl smiled, her mother's positivity was truly infectious and was one of the things that had always kept her going through the hardest months of her life.

"Thank you, mother, that does make me feel better"

"I'm glad" she replied whilst giving her daughter's arm a tender squeeze.

"By the way, mother, I wanted to ask you if you still wanted me to help you with your English"

"Oh, Liesl, it's very kind of you, but I'd hate to take up your free time"

"It would be no trouble at all" the girl assured, "I told you that I enjoy helping to teach the girls, and I know I would enjoy helping you too. And…well…I hate to think that you're struggling, if there's anything I can do to help you, then I want to do it"

"You are endlessly selfless, Liesl"

"Well, what do you say?"

She thought about it for a moment, she really did hate to be a burden on the girl, and she still had the remaining guilt of pushing her emotions and hardships onto Georg the previous night…but she knew that life would only get easier if she practised and persevered, and she knew that it would be easier with Liesl than anyone else. Well, aside from her husband. But here Liesl was, an ambitious glimmer in her eyes and a desire to help. She didn't want to take that away from her.

"Okay Liesl, how about we start tomorrow when the children finish their lessons?"

"Sounds good to me, I really hope I can help you"

"I'm sure you will, Liesl, you are already a wonderful teacher to Marta and Gretl"

"Thank you, mother. Do you mind if I don't join you outside so that I can find my old English textbooks and materials?" she asked – trying to quell her enthusiasm.

"Of course you can, darling" she chuckled.

And with that, Liesl scurried off too – with no less bumbling excitement than her younger siblings.

* * *

Isobel sniffed with disapproval as she moved across to gaze out of the French windows. She barely even noticed the rattle of the tea tray brought in by Jack, nor the whisper scribbles of her husband at the writing desk. All she could focus on was the unbecoming and thoroughly unladylike behaviour of her daughter-in-law as she played with her brood. They were engaged in some kind of chase game, she couldn't say what kind, but what she could see clearly was the scrappy and limitless rough play being demonstrated by them all. Children and adult alike were running back and forth across the lawn, bolting away in one moment and being tackled to the ground in the next. And the shouting, cheering and rattling laughter that took over the air was most irritating to her.

It was something she could've perhaps allowed the boys to do, but certainly not the girls! She thought that Louisa would be old enough to know better or to have no interest in such silly play times, and she was shocked that calm and quiet Brigitta was a strong contender in their game. At least Liesl was nowhere to be seen, she thought. But worst of all was Maria. She seemed to show no self-control and absolutely no shame in her actions. She was just as wild as the children. Isobel was sure that she had started the whole thing, had pulled the children away from their studies so they could spend time in pointless play. She wasn't sure how Maria used to do things in Austria, but she did not approve of such behaviour in her country and at her own home.

"It's really not proper behaviour is it, Johnathon? Does it not bother you?"

"Of course it does," the man scoffed – barely looking up from his writing desk - "but I think it's unfair for us to expect her to adjust to the proper way of life instantly"

"You're too sentimental" his wife scolded, "if one is going to be a part of this family and live our way of life, then one must adapt. It is not just her reputation on the line, it's ours too…although I don't think she has much of a reputation to protect"

"Is this about her being a postulant again?"

Jack, who remained loyally in the corner of the room pricked his ears, but remained silent and almost invisible as to not disturb his gossiping superiors. This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"As a matter of fact, it is. Do you not think that we have a right to know if we now have a black sheep in the family? I mean _a nun_, Jonathon. It's just so…_scandalous!_"

"You _think _it's scandalous"

"And I am sure my intuitions are well placed, as they always are. And even the whole thing is purely innocent, and our son-in-law did decide to marry her through pure intentions, she was still a servant. And maybe a nun as well! When I had heard that Maria was a governess I had just about brought myself to accept it, but finding out that she was _their _governess, well, I almost didn't feel comfortable having someone with such a lack of professionalism and self-control under our roof! And then the postulant rumours came my way…it just isn't the way of things, in any country's upper class"

"You're right, it certainly isn't a negotiable matter over here. Do you remember when the youngest daughter of the family in Yorkshire eloped with one of the servants*? Caused quite the scandal"

"Well, from what I've heard from Hedwig, they caused quite the scandal in Salzburg...and Vienna too" Isobel snorted.

Jack smirked to himself.

"In most of Austria, I would imagine" Jonathan added. Finally he put down his pen and looked across the room to his wife, "but do you really trust what you hear from Hedwig? She has come up with a few far-fetched tales over the years"

"I will admit that she has quite a vivid imagination, and I'm quite sure she is intent on convincing me that the Austrian upper-class is far more dramatic than the English, but she has assured me that the news travelled throughout the country, and that I would only have to ask anyone else over there to hear the same story"

"You know how fast gossip spreads and mutates. How on earth would, say, a baroness in Vienna know what was going on in Salzburg at the time?" Jonathon asked.

"Be that as it may, Hedwig lives in _Salzburg_ and is very involved in their social scene. She told me she even attended one of two of their balls, one of which was with Georg's previous fiancé, you know, Baroness Schraeder?"

"Yes, I recall you mentioning it on the day they arrived. Hedwig was there?"

"Oh yes, said she'd never seen a more perfectly matched couple. Both prime examples of the Austrian pedigree"

"Did she notice anything suspicious?"

"She didn't say" Isobel replied with a slow shake of her head, "said that they seemed quite ordinary. They talked, drank, and laughed together – and she was on his arm for almost the entire night. She had no reason to suspect anything unbecoming was occurring behind closed doors with Georg and the governess"

"We still don't know that there was" Jonathon reminded her pointedly.

"I think there was" she replied almost absently, as if the lies and rumours she had convinced herself of had wound themselves so tightly into her mind that they were now nothing if not the truth. Impossible to be anything else. She could no more will herself to believe Maria's innocence than she could to believe that two plus two made five*.

Jonathon said nothing to her. He was still harbouring a lot of grief over not only the death of his daughter, but the lack of contact he'd had with his grandchildren because of Georg. There was still much bitterness there and he was not ready to forgive or defend him yet. And he too felt wounded by the sordid rumours Georg and his new wife had brought with them.

"Hedwig didn't notice Maria at the party?"

"Not particularly. She said she caught a glimpse of her once or twice, mostly when the children said goodnight to the guests with some lacklustre performance before she carted them off to bed. But why would she pay any notice to the governess? You wouldn't notice them any more than you would notice a footman"

How ironic.

"I suppose you're right"

The was a brief moment of thick silence and contemplation as Isobel continued to slyly watch the woman in question.

"I don't believe it was all innocent. If she indeed was a nun, then it just wouldn't happen. I believe they had an affair, and the consequences of which led to their marriage. I do not know who pursued whom, but I believe that there was a lot going on behind closed doors and under the cover of moonlight. I need to know what kind of woman he's brought into our family…and what kind of man our daughter married in the first place"

"And how are you going to find this out" she was asked, "You're not going to ask them are you?"

"Good heavens, no!" she almost shrieked, "but I have my means and my contacts. I'm sure I can find out from somebody"

"And who else would truly know besides them? You can't contact any of their staff or close friends from Salzburg, the Nazis are all over them. And you know that you can't trust any of your other friends from out there, not even Hedwig"

"Maybe I will have to speak to her then…I don't know how tough of a nut she is, but I'm quite a tough nutcracker*. I need to know the truth" she stated, with no room for negotiation.

* * *

* (1) - A reference to Downton Abbey

* (2) - A reference to 1984 (George Orwell)

* (3) - A quote from Downton Abbey


End file.
